𝙰𝚣𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚜 Pt.3! (SMUT)
♡ Spicy time with Mohawk Mark ~ ♡
✩ ‧ ₊ ˚ Promises to Keep‧ ₊ ˚
⚠YOU CAN READ THIS BY ITSELF OR FOLLOW THE SERIES⚠
((SEMI SLOW LEAD UP TO SMUT))
☆ WC: 10k+ [Pt.3] ☆ TW: SMUT (Sexual intercourse with Mohawk) ☆ Authors note: Hey, so I wrote this very chap VERY descriptive, read it when you have time and wanna get into a hot moment, lol. A lot of details were added, so you can really ENVISION this first-hand.
Anyways, Mohawk has a snarky, sarcastic personality on the outside, but I believe he gets really soft and needy during sexual stuff with his lover... hehe **cooking time turns spicy** ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
The walk back to the fortress was filled with comfortable chatter, the group's dynamics having shifted into something remarkably harmonious after their day at the lake. As they approached the towering structure—no longer just a shelter but beginning to feel like home—Y/N found herself falling into step beside Mohawk, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet since they'd left the shore.
"Getting ready to admit defeat?" she teased, nudging his arm with her elbow.
Mohawk's eyes lit up at her attention, a slow grin spreading across his face as his gaze swept over her, "Defeat? Princess, I won that bet fair and square. You're the one who needs to prepare for culinary servitude."
"Culinary servitude?" Y/N laughed, the sound echoing through the alien twilight. "I don't remember agreeing to those terms."
"You didn't specify otherwise," he countered, voice dropping so low, it seemed to vibrate through her chest. His fingers brushed against her waist casually as they walked, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "And I distinctly remember someone promising dinner of my choice."
Ahead of them, Omni Mark glanced back, one eyebrow raised in silent question. Y/N gave him a reassuring smile, and something in his gaze softened before he turned his attention back to the path.
"Fine," Y/N conceded with mock exasperation. "But I'll need a sous chef. Those spicy things have tentacles, and I'm not handling those alone."
Mohawk's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Afraid of a little tentacle, princess? Didn't seem to bother you when Sinister spotted that lake creature."
"That was different," she protested. "It wasn't going to be my dinner."
"Fair point." Mohawk's hand brushed against hers, the touch seemingly accidental but lingering just long enough to send warmth spiraling up her arm, "I suppose I could be convinced to help. For a price."
Y/N raised an eyebrow. "And what price would that be?"
His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again, hunger darkening his brown eyes, "I'll let you know when I decide."
The words hung between them, charged with promise as they continued toward the fortress that loomed against the backdrop of the now-rising moons.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
The fortress kitchen had quickly become one of Y/N's favorite places. Unlike the coldly efficient space they'd first discovered, it had transformed under their collective care—herbs from the nearby fields hung drying from rafters, colorful alien fruits filled stone bowls, and the massive hearth radiated welcoming warmth.
"You actually showed up," Mohawk remarked as Y/N entered, his lean frame silhouetted against the cooking fire. He'd changed from his swim attire into loose-fitting black pants that rode low on his hips and nothing else, leaving his broad chest bare. Droplets of water traced tantalizing paths down the defined muscles of his torso, disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants, while some water droplets still clung to the ends of his mohawk, suggesting a recent shower.
"I always keep my promises," Y/N replied, leaning against the doorframe. "Unlike someone who promised to help supervise."
"Oh, I'm supervising." The corner of his mouth quirked up as his eyes traveled slowly down her form.
She'd also showered and changed, opting for a simple tunic-like garment in a soft fabric from her wardrobe. The lavender fabric clung to her curves in all the right places, the material thin enough that her body heat showed through, creating a silhouette that had Mohawk's full attention.
"Supervising requires more than just standing there looking pretty," Y/N challenged, pushing away from the doorframe and approaching the large stone table where he'd already laid out several ingredients.
"Pretty?" Mohawk snorted, though a pink flush colored his cheeks. "Princess, I'm many things, but pretty isn't one of them."
"I disagree," Y/N replied with deliberate casualness as she examined the spread before her. The spicy tentacled fruits—which No-Mask had tentatively classified as some kind of land-dwelling mollusk/plant hybrid—were indeed present, alongside various herbs and what appeared to be the alien equivalent of root vegetables.
She could feel Mohawk's surprise at her compliment, his momentary silence heavier than any verbal response would have been. When he finally moved, coming to stand beside her at the table, the heat from his body was a boiling presence against her side.
"If you're angling to get out of cooking, flattery won't work," he said with a soft smirk, though his voice had lost some of its edge.
Y/N glanced up at him through her lashes. "Who says I'm angling for anything? Maybe I just like watching you blush."
The red on his cheeks deepened, spreading down his neck to the top of his chest. "I-I don't blush," he growled grumpily, though the evidence clearly contradicted his claim. "I'm physically incapable of it."
"Mmm, my mistake then," Y/N hummed, with a soft roll of her eyes, deliberately brushing against him as she reached for a knife. "Must be the lighting."
Mohawk caught her wrist before her fingers could close around the blade, his grip firm but gentle. "Careful with that," he murmured, his voice dropping to that rumbling register that seemed to reverberate through her bones. "These things are sharper than they look."
The double meaning wasn't lost on her—nor was the way his thumb brushed slowly across her pulse point, tracking its acceleration.
"I can handle sharp things," she countered, making no move to pull away from his touch.
"Can you?" His brown eyes held hers, challenge sparking between them. "Show me."
Y/N held his gaze as she slowly twisted her wrist in his grasp, not breaking free but repositioning until her palm pressed against his. "I'm not afraid of getting cut," she said softly.
Something dark and hungry flashed in Mohawk's brown eyes before he stepped back, releasing her with what seemed like reluctance. "Good to know," he replied, voice rougher than before. "Now about dinner—"
The kitchen door swung open, and Lensless bounded in, vibrating with his usual excess energy. "Hey! What are you guys making? Can I help? I'm really fast at chopping things! One time I diced an entire onion in 0.3 seconds but then I sneezed and it went everywhere and—"
"We're good," Mohawk interrupted, shooting Lensless a deadly glare.
Lensless's eyes darted between them, realization dawning on his face as he tugged on his shorts nervously. "Ohhhh, right, the bet! You two are doing dinner together! That's so cute! Like a date! Is it a date? Should I tell the others not to—"
"Lensless," Y/N interjected gently. "Would you mind letting the others know dinner might be a bit later than usual? We're experimenting with some new ingredients."
"Sure! No problem! Totally get it!" Lensless nodded so rapidly his features blurred. "Private cooking time! I'll make sure nobody bothers you! Except maybe Sinister because he never listens to me but I'll try my best!" With that, he ran out of the kitchen, leaving behind only a faint breeze and the lingering scent of fresh mint from his recent shower.
When the door swung shut behind him, Mohawk let out a breath that was half laugh, half groan, rolling his eyes dramatically. "That kid has the worst timing in any universe."
"Or the best," Y/N countered with a small smile. "Depends on your perspective."
Mohawk's gaze sharpened with interest, the firelight from the hearth casting golden shadows across his chiseled features. His eyes gleamed with unmistakable hunger as they traced the curve of her smile. "And what's your perspective, princess?"
Y/N picked up the knife he'd warned her about earlier, testing its weight in her hand, spinning it with surprising dexterity between her fingers, the metal catching the warm light as it twirled. "That depends on whether you're actually going to help me with dinner or just stand there looking intimidating."
"I can multitask," he replied, his voice dropping to that rumbling baritone that seemed to vibrate through the room as he moved closer until he stood directly behind her, his powerful body radiating heat like a furnace at her back.
The solid wall of his chest pressed against her shoulder blades, his hips aligned with her backside perfectly, making it impossible to ignore the growing firmness there. "Show me what you want me to do."
Y/N swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of every point where their bodies connected, of how small the kitchen felt with his massive presence filling the space behind her. "You could start by chopping these," she suggested, gesturing to the tentacled fruits with a steadiness she didn't entirely feel.
Instead of moving away to comply, Mohawk reached around her, his chest pressing further against her back as his muscled arm brushed against hers, the unexpected contact sending goosebumps racing across her skin. He picked up a second knife. "Like this?" he asked, his lips mere inches from her ear, his hot breath fanning across her sensitive skin as he sliced through one of the purple fruits. The movement brought his stubbled jaw alongside hers, the rough texture grazing her temple in a touch that felt deliberately provocative.
"That works," she managed, suppressing a visible shiver as warmth bloomed in her cheeks and spread down her neck. She tried to focus on her own preparation despite the distracting heat of him surrounding her, but her body betrayed her with a slight tremor in her hands.
They worked like that for several minutes—Mohawk maintaining their close proximity even when the small kitchen offered plenty of space, finding excuses to reach around her for ingredients or utensils, each touch growing more deliberate with every pass. His large hands would graze her waist, fingers splaying to brush against her hips, occasionally dipping dangerously low before retreating, leaving trails of heat in their wake.
Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, Y/N leaned back into his solid frame. The movement pressed her curves firmly against the hard planes of his body, her backside connecting with the unmistakable evidence of his growing arousal. The contact drew a sharp intake of breath from him, his fingers momentarily tightening on the knife before he set it carefully aside.
"How's the supervision going?" she asked, her voice huskier than intended as she tilted her head to meet his gaze.
"Thoroughly," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear in a touch so feather-light it might have been accidental if not for the way his hands now settled possessively on her hips. "You're doing well. Better than I expected, considering."
Y/N turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze from mere inches away. "Considering what?"
"Considering how badly your hands are shaking," he observed, a smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth as his thumbs traced small circles on her hip bones. "Am I distracting you, princess?"
"You wish," she scoffed, though the breathless quality of her voice and the flush spreading across her cheeks told a different story.
His chuckle was a deep rumble she felt reverberating through her entire body, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched her reaction. "I do wish," he admitted, the unexpected honesty in his voice catching her off guard. "I wish a lot of things when it comes to you."
Y/N turned fully in his arms then, the cooking momentarily forgotten. "Like what?"
Mohawk's expression shifted, the perpetual smirk giving way to something more complex—hunger still, but tempered with an emotion that looked almost vulnerable on his usually hardened features.
His hands settled on her waist, large enough to nearly span it completely as his thumb traced featherlight patterns against her abdomen through her shirt, the simple touch sending shivers racing up her spine.
"Like having you all to myself for more than five fucking minutes," he replied, his fingers skimmed along her sides. "Like finding out if you taste as sweet as you smell." His hands moved to her hips, gripping the needable flesh. "Like hearing the sounds you'd make if I touched you right."
Heat bloomed across Y/N's cheeks, spreading down her neck and across her chest until her skin felt too tight, too sensitive. Her pulse quickened under his intense gaze, her lips parting slightly as she drew in an unsteady breath.
"Pretty sure our dinner's burning," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the hearth fire, her eyes never leaving his.
"Let it," Mohawk growled, though he made no move to close the remaining distance between them.
For all his brash words and bold touches, there was a hesitation in his eyes—a silent question, seeking permission despite the confident set of his shoulders.
It was that realization that made her decision. She reached up, threading her fingers through the shorter hair at the sides of his mohawk, feeling the surprising softness against her palms as she pulled his head down to hers, bringing his lips to hers with an urgency that surprised them both.
The kiss was nothing like their previous encounters—not the desperate clash during the war nor the playful peck at the kitchen and lake. This was something entirely new—slow, deliberate heat that built with every passing second.
Mohawk's initial surprise quickly melted into something primal as his arms tightened around her, pulling her flush against him until not even air could pass between their bodies.
His lips overwhelmed hers, surprisingly soft and pliant despite his rough exterior, moving with a practiced confidence that made her knees weak. The contrast between his gentle mouth and the harsh stubble scraping her skin created a delicious friction that made her groan.
When his tongue swept against the seam of her lips, Y/N gasped softly, the small sound swallowed by his mouth as she opened to him without hesitation, surrendering to the intoxicating slide of his tongue against hers. The taste of him—spicy and masculine with hints of something unexpectedly sweet—flooded her senses as she clutched at his shoulders for support. His hands slid down to cup her backside, lifting her slightly to better align their bodies, the hard ridge of his manhood pressing insistently against her stomach, hot even through layers of clothing.
"Fuck," he breathed against her mouth when they finally broke for air, his chest heaving as though he'd run miles rather than just kissed her. "Been wanting to do that properly since the lake."
"Just since the lake?" Y/N teased, delighting in the way his pupils expanded until only a thin ring of brown remained.
"Since I first saw you," he admitted, voice rough with an honesty that seemed to surprise even him. "Standing there in the middle of that battlefield like some kind of avenging angel. Wanted you even then."
The confession sent electricity racing down her spine. This wasn't just attraction or convenience—this was something that had been building since their very first encounter, something that transcended universes.
"Show me," she challenged, going up on her tippy toes to nip gently at his lower lip, drawing a hiss from deep in his throat. "Show me how much you want me."
Something dangerous and thrilling flashed across Mohawk's face—a predatory hunger that should have frightened her but instead sent liquid heat pooling low in her abdomen. In one fluid motion, he lifted her off her feet and deposited her on the edge of the stone table, his movements so swift and effortless that she barely had time to gasp before finding herself seated, several abandoned cooking implements clattering to the floor.
"Careful what you ask for, princess," he warned, his voice dropping low that seemed designed to make her core clench with anticipation. His hands bracketed her hips, holding her in place as he stepped between her parted knees. "I'm not known for my restraint."
Y/N reached for him, her fingers trailing over the impressive expanse of his chest, exploring the ridges and valleys of hard muscle beneath warm skin. The dense mat of hair covering his torso was surprisingly soft against her palms, tickling her fingertips as she explored the ridges of muscle beneath—so different from Omni's smoother torso or Viltrumite's leaner build. "Maybe I don't want restraint," she whispered.
Mohawk half growled, half groaned as he captured her mouth again. The kiss deeper and hungrier than before, his tongue claiming her mouth with possessive strokes, making her whimper against his lips. His hands were all over her—roaming her body with barely contained urgency—sliding up her thighs beneath the tunic, tangling in her hair, cupping her face with surprising tenderness before drifting lower to trace the curve of her breast through the thin fabric.
When his thumb brushed across her nipple, the sudden jolt of pleasure made Y/N gasp into his mouth, her back arching involuntarily as the sensitive peak hardened beneath his touch. Mohawk broke the kiss to watch her reaction, his eyes hooded, focused on her face with an almost scientific interest as he repeated the motion more deliberately.
"Sensitive," he observed, a smug satisfaction coloring his voice as he circled the hardened peak with deliberate strokes. "Wonder if you're this responsive everywhere?"
Before Y/N could formulate a response, he was tugging the tunic upward, his intentions unmistakable as his large hands bunched the fabric at her waist. She raised her arms, allowing him to pull the garment over her head and discard it somewhere behind him. The cool air of the kitchen raised goosebumps across her newly exposed skin, her nipples tightening further under the combination of cold air and Mohawk's burning gaze.
"Fucking perfect," he breathed, his voice filled with such raw appreciation that any self-consciousness she might have felt vanished instantly. His large hands came up to cup her breasts, the gentle weight of them filling his palms as his thumbs traced teasing circles around her areolas, deliberately avoiding the sensitive peaks that ached for his touch. "Even better than I imagined, and believe me, princess—I've imagined plenty."
Y/N felt exposed under his intense scrutiny if not for the unabashed admiration written across his features, the way his eyes darkened with each passing moment as they roved over her naked torso. His thumbs finally brushed across her nipples with teasing pressure, drawing a soft sound from deep in her throat as pleasure radiated from her nipples.
"You're staring," she murmured, unable to hide the tremor in her voice as another wave of sensation washed through her, heat flooding her cheeks.
"Damn right I am," he replied without a hint of apology, his gaze traveled over her form. "Been wanting to see you like this since day one." He leaned down, replacing one thumb with his mouth, the sudden contrast between the cool air and the wet heat of his tongue drawing a shocked gasp from her lips as she arched, eyes widening at the sensation. "Been wanting to taste you everywhere."
Y/N's head fell back on a gasp, exposing the column of her throat as pleasure coursed through her veins like liquid fire. One hand came up to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through his mohawk as she held him against her breast, while the other gripped his shoulder for support. The soft scrape of his stubble against her sensitive skin created a delicious contrast to the wet heat of his mouth, each gentle bite followed by a soothing lap of his tongue that had her squirming against him, seeking more contact.
He gave one hard bite on her right breast, the sharp sting of pain quickly melting into pleasure as he soothed the mark with his tongue. Pulling back, he smirked and admired his work—she was transformed under his touch, chest heaving with rapid breaths, skin flushed pink with arousal, and eyes half-lidded with desire. Her breasts were flushed red and her nipples were visibly swollen from his attention.
"Still think dinner's the priority?" he asked, voice rough with desire as he smirked.
Unable to form coherent words, Y/N hooked her legs around his waist, strong thighs pressing against his hips as she pulled him closer to the edge of the table where she sat. The movement brought the hard ridge of his bulge directly against her core, drawing a hiss from both of them despite the barriers of clothing still between them.
"I think," she replied, deliberately rocking against him in a slow, teasing motion that had his hands tightening on her thighs, "that I'm more interested in dessert right now."
A wicked grin spread across Mohawk's face, transforming his features with boyish delight despite the hunger in his eyes. "Always knew you had good taste, princess." His hands slid beneath her thighs, gripping the firm muscle there as he adjusted her position slightly before grinding against her with deliberate pressure. The hard length of him manhood pressed perfectly against her core, sending jolts of electricity up her spine that had her gasping. "How long have you been thinking about this? About us?"
The unexpected vulnerability in his question caught Y/N off guard—beneath the confident exterior and bold touches, there was an uncertainty she hadn't anticipated. She cupped his face between her palms, thumbs brushing across the stubble on his cheeks as she forced him to meet her gaze directly.
"Since you kissed me during the war," she admitted honestly. "Maybe even before that. When you looked at me like I was the answer to a question you'd been asking your whole life."
Something raw and unguarded flickered in his eyes, a flash of emotion so intense it almost hurt to witness before he buried it beneath desire once more. He captured her mouth again, the kiss surprisingly gentle despite the tension evident in every corded muscle of his body, his lips moving against hers with a tenderness that belied his usual brashness. "Never thought I'd get another chance," he murmured against her lips. "After my Y/N died, I didn't think—" He broke off, burying his face in the curve of her neck.
Y/N ran her fingers through his mohawk, the gesture soothing as she held him close, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against her chest. She traced the soft skin at the nape of his neck, feeling the strong tendons there as he shuddered against her. "I'm here now," she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
Mohawk lifted his head, his expression so nakedly hopeful it made her heart ache for all he'd lost, for the pain he carried beneath his cavalier exterior. "Promise?"
"Promise," she confirmed, sealing the vow with a kiss that started gentle but quickly blazed into something more.
That single word seemed to break something loose in him—the last threads of his self-control snapping as he claimed her mouth with renewed hunger. His tongue invaded her mouth, exploring and claiming as his hands roamed her body with increasing urgency. A low growl rumbled in his chest as she whimpered against him. His hands were everywhere at once—tracing the curve of her waist, palming her breasts, sliding down to grip her hips with bruising intensity as he ground against her.
"Need you," he growled against her mouth. "Feel how much I fucking need you," he added, guiding her hand downward to press against the prominent bulge straining against his pants. The heat of him seared through the fabric, impossibly hard yet somehow silky beneath her palm as she traced his length, drawing a sharp hiss from between his clenched teeth. "Wanted this for so fucking long."
"Then take me," Y/N challenged, deliberately dragging her teeth across his lower lip as she bit down gently. The sharp sting of her teeth had him hissing, his hips bucking involuntarily against her core. "Unless you're all talk, Mohawk~?"
His eyes narrowed, pupils dilating until they nearly swallowed the brown of his irises. "Oh, princess," he purred, the dangerous softness in his voice sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. "You're gonna feel exactly how much I can back up my talk. You're gonna regret that challenge."
In one fluid motion, he lifted her off the table entirely, his hands gripping the undersides of her thighs as her legs automatically wrapped around his waist. The powerful muscles of his arms flexed beneath her grip, his strength effortlessly supporting her weight as if she were nothing. He carried her across the kitchen with confident strides, never breaking eye contact as anticipation built between them. Her back met the cool stone wall beside the hearth, the contrast with Mohawk's burning skin pulling a gasp from her lips.
"Right here?" she asked breathlessly, excitement fluttering in her stomach at the thought of being taken against the wall, their passion too urgent to make it to a bedroom.
"Right here," he confirmed, his grin wolfish in the dancing firelight, shadows accentuating the sharp angles of his face. "Want to watch you come undone against this wall," he growled, rolling his hips against her in a slow, deliberate motion that had her biting her lip to hold back a moan. "Unless you'd prefer somewhere more comfortable?"
Y/N considered for a moment—the private sanctuary of her chambers, perhaps, or even one of the many unused rooms throughout the fortress. But there was something intoxicating about the urgency of this moment, about Mohawk's barely contained desire and the heat of the kitchen fire painting his powerful body in gold and shadow.
"Here is perfect," she decided, tightening her legs around his waist. The adjustment brought his hardness directly against her aching vagina, making her groan and dig her nails into the muscles of his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin.
Mohawk's smile turned predatory, his eyes darkening to nearly black as he gazed down at her. "Good choice." His hands slid to the waistband of her leggings, fingers dipping just beneath the fabric. Tracing teasing circles on her lower belly, making her muscles jump beneath his touch. "These need to go."
Y/N nodded her agreement, her breath catching in her throat as anticipation coiled tight in her stomach. Her lips, swollen from his kisses, parted on a silent gasp as his fingertips dipped lower with torturous slowness. She unwound her legs from his waist just long enough for him to tug the garment down, leaving her in just the damp panties that clung to her mound. She kicked the leggings aside, now feeling the rough fabric of his pants against her nearly bare lower half, the friction drawing a whimper from her throat. The contrast between the cool air and his burning skin against her exposed thighs made her shiver, her body unconsciously arching toward his heat.
"Look at you," Mohawk breathed, taking a half-step back to admire her near-naked form. His gaze felt like a physical caress, raking over her body with such intensity that heat bloomed everywhere his eyes lingered. His expression held such raw hunger it made her breath hitch, yet beneath the desire was something deeper—a reverence that made her heart flutter wildly against her ribs. He seemed to memorize every curve, every freckle, every scar. "Fucking perfect."
Y/N felt a moment of self-consciousness as his gaze fell to the dark curls visible through her damp underwear. A flush spread from her cheeks down her neck to her chest, her skin turning a delicate rose that made her nipples stand out even more prominently against her flushed skin.
She realized this was her first time being so exposed in the light. With Sinister in the cave, darkness had hidden her body's natural state, but here in the kitchen's warm glow, nothing was concealed. The vulnerability of being seen—truly seen—by him sent a conflicting wave of anxiety and arousal through her core. She resisted the urge to cover herself, uncertain about her body hair after years in the sterile GDA environment.
Mohawk must have sensed her hesitation, because his eyes grew gentle for a heartbeat, the rare tenderness there making her chest tighten with emotion. "Every inch of you," he murmured, sliding his hands up her thighs with reverent slowness. His large palms covered so much territory, the strength in them carefully controlled as they kneaded the soft flesh beneath. His thumbs traced the edges of her underwear, teasing the sensitive skin there.
"Perfect." He leaned closer, his gaze dropping to the damp fabric clinging to her mound. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Though it looks like the forest floor got a little… overgrown. Don't worry, princess," he chuckled softly, his voice a low rumble against her ear, the warm puff of his breath sending shivers racing down her spine as he nipped playfully at her earlobe, "I've always enjoyed a bit of exploring in the wilderness."
Y/N's embarrassment vanished, replaced by a burst of unexpected laughter that bubbled from her throat. She playfully kicked at his groin, her foot connecting just firmly enough to draw a surprised groan from him that was part pain, part arousal. His eyes widened momentarily before narrowing with dangerous delight.
"Save that feisty business for the main course, princess," he growled, capturing her ankle in his hand before it could retreat. His thumb traced the delicate bones there, pressing into the arch of her foot in a way that made her toes curl with unexpected pleasure as a laugh rumbled in his chest, the sound warming her from the inside out.
"Your turn," she insisted, reaching for the drawstring of his pants, her confidence returning at his genuine admiration. Her fingers brushed against the hard planes of his lower abdomen, feeling the muscles there contract sharply at her touch.
Mohawk caught her wrists, pressing them gently back against the wall above her head. His grip was firm but careful, large enough that his fingers completely encircled her wrists with room to spare. The tiny wince that crossed her features didn't escape his notice, and he immediately adjusted, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against her pulse points, the surprising tenderness at odds with the hunger in his eyes.
The position made her feel wonderfully vulnerable, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath.
"Not yet," he growled, leaning in to nip at the sensitive spot below her ear. The sharp edge of his teeth followed by the soothing warmth of his tongue had her arching against him, a breathy moan escaping her lips. Her body responded instinctively to his touch, straining toward him even as he held her firmly in place. "Been dreaming about tasting you first."
Without releasing her wrists, Mohawk shifted his stance, lowering himself slightly while still keeping her pinned to the wall. The movement showcased the raw power in his thighs as he bent his knees, his free hand sliding between her legs with practiced ease.
His fingers traced up her inner thigh with feather-light touches that left goosebumps in their wake, each caress drawing closer to where she ached for him most. The muscles in her thighs quivered beneath his touch, anticipation making her breath come in short, desperate gasps.
"Been thinking about this since the first time I kissed you," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as his lips traced a burning path along her collarbone.
The rasp of his stubble against her sensitive skin created a delicious contrast to the wetness of his open-mouthed kisses. "The sounds you'd make. How you'd taste on my tongue."
Y/N's head fell back against the wall, surrendering to the sensations as his fingers finally hooked into the waistband of her underwear. He released her wrists to slide the soaked fabric down her legs, his movements deliberately slow as though savoring each new inch of skin revealed.
His eyes never left her body, drinking in every detail like a man dying of thirst. She stepped out of them on trembling legs, now completely bare from the waist down, feeling utterly exposed yet strangely powerful under his hungry gaze.
Mohawk tossed her underwear aside, his eyes darkening to almost black as he took in the sight of her completely bare before him. The raw desire in his expression was unmistakable, his breathing growing heavier as he drank in the view of her glistening folds, already slick with arousal.
"Mark," she whispered, one hand coming down to tangle in his hair. The softness of his mohawk surprised her, the shorter sides velvety against her palm.
He glanced up at her from his slightly lowered position, the firelight catching the hunger in his eyes, turning them to molten amber. "Say it again," he urged, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh, dangerously close to her wetness. His tongue darted out to taste the sensitive crease where thigh met her core, making her gasp and tighten her grip on his mohawk. "Want to hear it from your lips when you come apart."
It took Y/N a moment to realize what he meant—not the nickname they all used, but his true name, the one he shared with all the variants despite their divergent paths. "Mark," she whispered again, the sound breathy with want.
The effect was electric. A visible shudder ran through his powerful frame, his hands tightening momentarily on her thighs before he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, opening her fully to his gaze. He looked up at her once more, his expression a mixture of hunger and something almost like neediness, before he leaned forward.
The first broad stroke of his tongue drew a cry from her lips, her fingers tightening reflexively in his hair. The wet heat of his mouth against her folds was unlike anything she'd experienced before, his skilled movements somehow both gentle and demanding at once. Mohawk—Mark—groaned against her in response, the vibration adding another layer of sensation that had her trembling against the wall.
"So fucking responsive," he murmured, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. He parted her lower lips with his fingers, revealing her swollen bud to his eager mouth. "Can't wait to devour this sweet pussy," he growled before sealing his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucking with deliberate pressure.
Y/N cried out, her hips bucking involuntarily against his face as pleasure shot through her like lightning. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him against her as he feasted upon her clit like a starved man, determined to taste every drop of her essence, his tongue swirling and flicking against her with expert precision, as if memorizing what made her gasp and moan the loudest.
Within moments, he had her writhing against him, her thighs trembling and clenching around his head as he suckled and licked her relentlessly.
"That's it, princess," he murmured against her heated flesh, his voice vibrating against her clit, "Let me hear how good it feels."
Any embarrassment Y/N might have felt at her wet, guttural moans was obliterated by the masterful, filthy work of his tongue—alternating between long, slick strokes that stretched every nerve ending in her cunt and focused, greedy attention on the throbbing bud that had her vision swimming with stars.
Her thighs trembled uncontrollably around his head, slick with her own juices, her fingers alternately clenching and releasing in his hair as wave after wave of pure, raw pleasure slammed through her.
He traced intricate, maddening patterns against her swollen clit, each lick and swirl building upon the last until she was a quivering, whimpering mess plastered against the cold stone, her pussy practically begging for more.
When one thick, calloused finger circled her slick entrance, spreading her dripping lips wide before pressing deliberately inside, a strangled cry tore from her throat, her wet hole already aching for his cock.
"So responsive," Mohawk praised, his voice rough with lust as he looked up at her from between her slick thighs, her juices glistening on his lips and chin like a badge of honor. He slid a second thick finger alongside the first, stretching her wet slit wide as his mouth continued its relentless, greedy assault on her swollen clit.
His thick digits scissored and curled upward, deep within her slick canal, finding that sweet spot that made her vision blur and her legs tremble uncontrollably, her inner walls squeezing him tight. "So fucking perfect for me~"
The combination of his masterful mouth devouring her pussy and the slick, rhythmic invasion of his thick fingers deep inside her wet cunt instantly sent Y/N spiraling toward the precipice. Her breath hitched in short, desperate gasps, her lungs burning as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in her core, a screaming knot of sensation demanding release.
Her back arched violently away from the cold stone, her head thrashing back against it as the pressure built to an unbearable crescendo, her inner walls clenching rhythmically, desperately milking his fingers as her shattering climax loomed. "Mark," she choked out, tugging urgently at his hair, a primal warning. "I'm close—I'm going to cum—"
"That's it," he encouraged, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her face contort in the throes of her impending orgasm, his thick fingers curling deep inside her slick cunt, hitting that precise spot that made her vision swim and her body buck.
"Let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers, wanna taste every last drop of your sweet cum." His voice was a rough, panting growl, the filthy words themselves. "Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you fucking shatter on my tongue," he urged against her wet lips, his breath hot and ragged. "Paint my fucking face with your delicious cum."
His filthy words, combined with a particularly clever flick of his tongue against her swollen clit, sent her hurtling over the edge, volcanic waves of pure sensation washing through her with such overwhelming intensity that her knees threatened to buckle had his grip on her hip not been her only anchor.
Her entire body tensed, every muscle clenching before releasing in shuddering spasms, waves of pure pleasure radiating outward from her core.
“M-mark~!” She cried out his name, a raw, primal sound of utter release, as her hips bucked uncontrollably against his face, her juicy cunt spasming around his eager mouth as he relentlessly licked and suckled her sensitive nub, greedily slurping up every drop of her sweet nectar that squirted out in thick, pulsing streams.
When he finally pulled back, his whole lower face glistened with the pearly evidence of her explosive orgasm, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
He licked his lips slowly, deliberately savoring her unique taste like a prized treat, a low, hum rumbling in his chest that sent a shiver of renewed longing through her still-quivering body. "Even sweeter than I ever fucking imagined," he growled, pressing one last, lingering kiss to her swollen clit before rising to his full height.
Mohawk stood up slowly, his hard body pressing intimately against hers as Y/N reached for him, her hands trembling slightly as she pulled his face down to hers. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth, letting her taste her own slickness mingled with his raw hunger.
One large hand slid up her side, cupping the swollen weight of her breast, his thumb kneading the ultrasensitive flesh as he devoured her mouth. He could feel her nipples hardening instantly against his palm, and he pinched and rolled the already erect peaks between his fingers, eliciting a soft moan against his lips.
Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in ragged gasps as they both tried to catch their breath, "Fuck, that was incredible," he murmured, his voice low and rough, a possessive glint in his heated gaze. "Love yo-mngh, princess.” Y/N giggled, licking his slobbery saliva off her lips, the taste of their mingled juices igniting a fresh wave of heat in her belly. Her hands, slid down his sweat-slicked chest, her fingers already fumbling with the drawstring of his pants like a mischievous little imp.
This time, Mohawk didn't stop her. His breathing quickened visibly, chest rising and falling rapidly as he watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she eagerly untied the drawstring, pushing the thick fabric down over his powerful thighs. A dark, enticing happy trail of hair led down from his navel to the dense, dark bush that framed his impressive groin.
His magnificent manhood sprang free, a solid eight and a half inches of thick, heavy flesh corded with prominent veins that pulsed with his potent arousal. The sensitive tip was flushed a deep pink and glistened with a generous amount of pre-cum, a slick, eager sheen that had been steadily leaking in anticipation of her touch, like a drooling puppy waiting for a treat. Below, his heavy balls swung low, full and weighty, practically begging for her attention.
"See something you like, you little tease?" he asked, voice rough with desire despite the playful words. A flush had spread across his cheeks.
Y/N smirked, her eyes sparkling with naughty delight as she wrapped her hand around his thick shaft in answer, reveling in the solid weight and radiating heat of him against her palm. Her fingers barely spanned his impressive girth, making her chuckle softly. He moaned softly into her ear, his eyes fluttering briefly closed at her touch. The hard length of him throbbed insistently against her palm, hot and heavy and somehow both impossibly hard and surprisingly velvety soft at once.
Mohawk's eyes darkened with raw lust as she stroked his aching length, a low, guttural groan rumbling in his chest at her caress. He could feel every delicate curve of her soft hand wrapped around him. The sensation of her thumb spreading his slick pre-cum down his veined shaft sent electric sparks of pure pleasure shooting through his body, his hips rocking slightly, involuntarily, into her teasing touch.
"Definitely," she replied, stroking him slowly from the thick base to the sensitive, glistening tip. She collected the abundant moisture at his flushed pink head with her thumb, spreading it down his corded shaft as she continued her slow, deliberate, and utterly wicked exploration. "Though I'm not entirely convinced all of this is going to fit... comfortably."
Mohawk's laugh was strained, his abdominal muscles rippling as he struggled to maintain control, his hips jerking slightly into her caressing touch. "Fuck, princess," he groaned, his hips jerking slightly into her hand. "Keep that up and this'll be over before it starts, and I've got a whole night planned to properly worship that sweet pussy of yours." His hands moved to her waist, gripping tightly as though anchoring himself. "We'll make it work," he promised, capturing her mouth in another hungry kiss. "Always do. One way or another, you're going to take every inch of me."
Mohawk broke the kiss, his breathing ragged as he looked down at her with a possessive hunger blazing in his eyes. He captured her mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue plunging deep as he ground his hard cock against her slick folds.
He could feel the heat radiating from her soaked vulva, her inner lips glistening and already slick with her own release from where he'd pleasured her earlier, droplets of her cum tracing wet, inviting paths down her thighs.
"Wrap your legs around me, princess," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "I'm going to fuck you against this wall until you scream." He lifted her again, this time with her full cooperation, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed her back against the wall.
The muscles in his arms bulged with the effort, veins standing out prominently beneath his skin. The new position brought the hot, blunt head of his arousal directly against her entrance, the slight pressure there making her gasp in anticipation. The head nudged against her outer lips, hot and insistent but not yet breaching, teasing her.
"Now… just making sure, are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. A fine sheen of sweat covered his chest, his muscles trembling with the effort of restraint.
"We can stop—" Y/N silenced him with a deep kiss, her hands framing his face, thumbs stroking over his rough cheekbones. Then, with deliberate slowness, she began to rock her hips forward, nudging herself against the slick, leaking tip of his cock.
A low moan escaped Mohawk's throat, his powerful body shuddering against hers. He was forced to break the kiss, a glistening strand of saliva connecting their parted lips as he looked down at her, his jaw clenched, every muscle in his body straining with the effort of holding back from simply pounding into her.
Her movements coated him in her abundant arousal before she finally notched his swollen head at her entrance. The stretch was delicious, her body already slick and ready from his earlier attention. "I've never been more sure of anything," she assured him, hands cradling his face as she stared directly into his eyes. "I want you, Mark. All of you."
Something vulnerable flashed across his features —a fleeting moment of pure, unguarded emotion that made her heart constrict in her chest—before he nodded, one hand coming up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingertips surprisingly gentle against her skin.
"Hold onto me," he instructed, his voice thick with suppressed desire, waiting until her arms were securely wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in the short, rough strands of his mohawk, before he began to slowly push his hips upward. The initial stretch was intense but not painful, Mohawk's earlier attentions having prepared her body.
A strangled sound, a mixture of anticipation and slight discomfort, escaped her throat as he filled her inch by exquisite inch, the sensation of such fullness felt both foreign and perfectly right.
He entered her with agonizing slowness, giving her body time to adjust to his considerable size, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants against her neck as he fought a visible battle for control, his muscles trembling with the effort of restraint. Mohawk's eyes fluttered shut, his lips pressed into a thin line as he savored the sensation of her tight, slick heat enveloping his cock, her inner walls clenching and fluttering around his throbbing length like a silken vise.
He could feel every delicate ridge and curve of her canal molding itself around him, could feel the subtle way her body stretched and yielded to accommodate his considerable size. It was a torturously delicious sensation, one that had him gritting his teeth, every nerve ending screaming for release, as he fought to maintain his measured pace.
"Fuck," he groaned when he was finally seated to the hilt, their bodies connected as intimately as possible. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his entire body trembling with the effort of remaining still. He remained perfectly motionless for a long moment, allowing her canal to fully accommodate his large size, his forehead dropping to rest against hers as he savored the feeling of her tight, wet heat gripping him like a vise. "So fucking tight and perfect, like your cunt was made just for my cock."
Y/N could only nod, overwhelmed by the fullness, by the heat of him stretching her from within. Her walls fluttered around him, adjusting to his presence. When he began to move, drawing out slowly until just the tip remained inside her before carefully pushing back in, she gasped at the exquisite friction, at the way he seemed to find and ignite every sensitive nerve ending within her.
The wet, slick sounds of their joining filled the small space as he withdrew almost completely, the head of his engorged penis teasing her again and again. Opening before he slammed back in, burying himself to the hilt. Sharp crys tore from Y/N's throat, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pound into her willing body with a hard, fast pace that stole her breath.
"Mark," she breathed, the name falling from her lips like a prayer, her head thrown back against the cold stone wall as he took her. Each powerful thrust sent sparks of raw ecstasy through her, her body bouncing against the unyielding surface with the force of his movements. She could feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock dragging along her sensitive inner walls, stretching her in the most delicious way, filling her completely with a sensation so profound it bordered on overwhelming.
"Mine," he growled, the word rumbling from deep in his chest as his hips snapped forward with renewed purpose, his powerful frame caging her against the unyielding wall. His teeth grazed her shoulder, marking her with a sharp bite. His hands gripped her ass roughly, squeezing the firm flesh as he fucked her harder against the cold stone.
He leaned in, his mouth latching onto one of her nipples, sucking hard as he rammed his thick cock deeper, hitting that exquisite G-spot that sent blinding bursts of light behind her eyelids. "Say it again," he demanded, punctuating the words with a particularly deep thrust that made her vision swim.
"Mark," she repeated, gasping as he increased his pace, one large hand sliding beneath her to adjust the angle for even deeper penetration. His rhythm grew urgent, each powerful thrust driving her closer to the shattering edge.
The new angle allowed his thick member to strike that precise point within her cunt, sending jolts of pure electricity through her trembling body. Her nails raked down his sweat-slicked back, leaving fiery trails in their wake as his thick length plunged even deeper into her tight canal, dragging against those hidden nerves that ignited a fresh wave of intense, almost unbearable pleasure. "Oh god, Mark!"
"Fuck, princess," he groaned, his voice tight with strain and barely restrained desire. "You're so fucking perfect, so tight and hot around my cock. I can feel your pussy squeezing me, milking my fucking dick." The wet slap of skin against skin punctuated his words, the sodden squelch of her intense arousal a visceral soundtrack to his deep thrusts.
His rhythm grew urgent, demanding. Each fuck was a raw, powerful claim, driving him deeper. Sweat slicked his sculpted chest, catching the firelight as the defined muscles bunched and flexed with each forceful movement. His gaze locked on her face, devouring every raw flicker of pleasure that contorted her features.
The sounds of their sex filled the kitchen—the wet smack of their bodies colliding, her sharp, escalating moans, his guttural growls of raw satisfaction as her inner walls clenched convulsively around his invading member.
"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated deep within her. "Take what you need from me. Use my cock to make yourself feel good. I want to feel you come apart on my dick, want to watch you fucking shatter!" His crude words, thick with a raw, sent a searing jolt of pure sensation flooding her core, her cunt clenching down around him.
Sweat dripped down Mohawk's chiseled chest and abs, highlighting every ridge and valley of muscle as they flexed and bunched with each powerful thrust. The tendons in his neck stood out, corded and taut as he fought to maintain control, his jaw clenched tight as he watched her with a wild, almost feral intensity. Every flicker of pleasure that crossed her face, every breathless moan and gasp that fell from her lips seemed to spur him on, driving him to take her harder, faster, deeper.
Y/N was beyond coherent thought, her body arching instinctively with each brutal thrust, her skin flushed and slick with a sheen of sweat that made her practically glow in the dim light. Her head was thrown back against the unyielding wall, exposing the vulnerable column of her throat which he immediately attacked with hot lips and sharp teeth, lost in the escalating pleasure as Mohawk fucked her with increasingly violent force.
The dual assault of his mouth at her throat and his thick cock pounding deep within her overwhelmed her senses, pleasure building in relentless, shattering waves. Mohawk's hand snaked between their sweat-slicked bodies, his calloused fingers finding her aching, swollen clit with unerring accuracy.
He circled the sensitive bundle of nerves with a pressure and speed that had her seeing stars, her back arching clean off the wall as a scream tore from her throat a second, involuntary orgasm seizing her with shocking intensity.
"That's it," he growled against her throat, his voice hoarse with raw desire as he felt her body begin to convulse around him. "Let go for me, my love. Want to feel you come apart around my cock."
Mohawk growled his approval as her pussy pulsed around him, the rhythmic contractions of her internal muscles drawing a strangled groan from deep within his chest. The sound was primal, deeply satisfied, as his fingers continued their relentless torment on her sensitive nub even as she shuddered and squeezed around his length, drawing out her pleasure until tears stung the corners of her eyes.
Her vision blurred as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her, each one more intense than the last as his skilled fingers refused to relent.
His thrusting faltered briefly before becoming almost punishing in its precision. "Aggh~ p-perfect," he gasped against her throat. "So fucking tight when y-you come, squeezing my cock like you never want to let go, you love me so much, dont ya baby-? Fuc-k Nnnhg~"
His breath came in harsh pants against her skin, his powerful body trembling with the effort of prolonging her exquisite torment before seeking his own explosive release. His words were crude but reverent, awe evident in every syllable. "So fucking perfect for me."
His thrusts grew erratic, his breathing harsh against her neck as he chased his own imminent climax. The powerful muscles of his back bunched and flexed beneath her slick hands, sweat making his skin even more slippery as he fucked her with increasing urgency, his thick length dragging against her G-spot with each desperate plunge. "Y/N nngh~!" he groaned, the sound of her name torn from his throat with a moan, "Need you, my heart~! Mmm-ahh a-always needed you."
"I'm h-here," she promised, cradling his sweat-slicked face between her trembling palms, forcing him to meet her glazed eyes as his control finally shattered. His eyes were wild with pure, unadulterated pleasure and something deeper, something akin to worship as he stared down at her. "Mppf~! I'm r-right here mark!"
Something breaks in his expression at her words—the last vestiges of his control shattering as he buries his thick cock to the hilt with a hoarse, guttural shout of her name. His entire body shudders violently as he pulses deep within her cunt, the hot, thick rush of his cum triggering an earth-shattering aftershock of pleasure that has her screaming his name.
He roars, his body convulsing above her as he empties his seed into her dripping pussy, each powerful jet painting her insides slick and white with his cum. The raw sensation of him coming undone, his powerful frame shaking with the force of his climax.
Y/n can't help it, she screams his name as she comes, her body convulsing almost violently beneath him in a mind-blowing orgasm. Wave after wave of pure, undiluted ecstasy washes over her, her vision going white as she clings to him, riding out the intense pleasure radiating from her core. She can feel his swollen member still throbbing deep inside her, prolonging her exquisite torment as he continues to flood her tight little hole with his seed, making a wet and sticky mess.
For long moments afterward, they remain locked together, Mohawk's forehead resting against hers as they both fight to draw ragged breaths. His heart hammers against her chest, his powerful arms trembling slightly as they hold her pinned against the wall.
When he finally eases her down, her legs shaking uncontrollably as they take her weight again, she can feel the thick, sticky mixture of their juices beginning to ooze from her slick, fucked pussy, a warm, undeniable testament to their explosive union, leaving a glistening trail down her thighs.
As he slowly withdraws his cock from her soaked cunt, sliding out with a wet, sighing sound, coated in the glistening blend of their mingled fluids; a thick, viscous string connecting them for a fleeting moment before parting, leaving her feeling deliciously empty and thoroughly used. He keeps her close within the circle of his possessive embrace, his eyes dark with love and satisfaction.
"F-fuck…That was..." he begins, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.
"Worth the wait?" Y/N suggests, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Mohawk's answering smile is softer than any expression she's shown him before. He traces her lower lip with his thumb, his touch gentle.
"Worth everything," he corrects, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to her forehead. "Worth every goddamn minute of waiting. Fucking incredible." He brushes a sweat-dampened strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
He cups her face, his thumb brushing over her plump bottom lip. "Don't think I've ever come that hard in my life," he admits, his voice low and rough, still tinged with the remnants of his intense climax. "The way you came apart in my arms...fuck, it was beautiful. You're beautiful…god I love you, you sticky little mess." The tenderness in his voice, so at odds with his typically brash demeanor, makes something warm bloom in Y/N's chest. She leans into him, savoring the solid strength of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her ear.
"We should probably actually make dinner at some point," she mused after a comfortable silence, reluctant to break the moment but aware that the others would be wondering about their absence.
Mohawk chuckled, the sound rumbling pleasantly through his chest where her head rested. "Probably," he agreed, making no move to release her. Instead, his hand came up to stroke through her hair with surprising gentleness.
His fingers worked through the tangles their activities had created, massaging her scalp in a way that had her practically purring against him. "Though I can think of better ways to work up an appetite. Involving more licking, more fucking, and definitely less cooking."
Y/N tilted her head back to meet his gaze, finding his eyes warm with a mixture of satisfaction and renewed interest, a definite glint of mischief sparking within them. "Is that so?"
"Mmm," he confirmed, bending to brush his lips against hers in a kiss far more tender than she would have expected from him. His tongue traced the seam of her lips without demanding entry, "But maybe somewhere more comfortable this time? My knees aren't what they used to be, princess. Especially after all that kneeling I did to properly worship your sweet pussy."
Y/N laughed, the sound bright and genuine in the warm kitchen air.
"Your chambers or mine?" she asked, delighting in the way his eyes darkened with possessive hunger at the suggestion.
"Mine," he growled possessively, his hand sliding down to squeeze her backside, his thumb digging playfully into the curve of her ass.
"My bed's bigger, and I want plenty of room to spread you out and take my time with you properly. Lick you until you're screaming my name again, princess. And then fuck you every which way until neither of us can see straight." He was already reaching for her discarded clothing. "Because princess, I'm nowhere near done with you yet. Not by a long shot. I've got a whole list of dirty things I still want to do to that tight little cunt of yours."
As they hastily dressed, her legs felt like jelly, completely unwilling to support her weight – Mohawk chuckled, scooping her up into his arms with effortless ease. He carried her from the kitchen, the half-prepared dinner forgotten behind them, a possessive gleam in his eyes as he headed towards his chambers.
Y/N couldn't help but think that some bets were worth losing—especially when the payoff was so unexpectedly perfect, and promised so much more to come.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
Hours later, when Mohawk finally carried Y/N from his chambers—disheveled and glowing with utter satisfaction, love bites a blatant roadmap of his desire across her neck and whole body, while his bad was littered with raw scratches, a testament to her own passionate grip—they found the common area suspiciously empty save for a platter of neatly arranged food and a note in No-Mask's precise handwriting:
"Since dinner preparations were evidently... thoroughly interrupted, we took the liberty of preparing an alternative meal. Lensless insisted we leave enough for two. Enjoy (and maybe hose down the kitchen floor later?)."
Below that, in a different, more flamboyant script that could only belong to Sinister:
"Do try to keep the noise down next time, dove. Some of us are trying to sleep. Though the walls were certainly vibrating with a new level of... intensity. But let's be honest, we all know who first taught you how to truly scream, don’t we dove~?"
And finally, a hastily scrawled addition in what appeared to be Omni Mark's controlled handwriting:
"Take your time. You've both earned it."
Mohawk read the note over her shoulder, his bark of laughter surprising but welcome against her ear. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her against the solid warmth of his chest as he nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Look at that," he mused, arms tightening around her waist. "The bastards can be considerate when they want to be. Prickly Sinister aside."
Y/N leaned back against his solid warmth, a deep contentment settling in her bones, a pleasant ache still throbbing between her thighs, making walking a distant memory. "Wonders never cease," she agreed, turning her head to press a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw, her slightly damp hair brushing against his cheek. "Though I'm not sure I want to know how they knew what we were doing."
"Lensless," they said in unison, then dissolved into laughter that echoed through the fortress halls.
As Mohawk settled at the table with Y/N nestled in his lap, sharing the meal their unlikely family had prepared, she couldn't help but marvel at how far they'd all come—from battle-hardened killers to men who would prepare dinner for their missing companions without complaint (or mostly without complaint, in Sinister's case).
"What are you thinking about?" Mohawk asked, his usual gruffness softened in the aftermath of their shared intimacy, his fingers absently stroking the curve of her hip.
Y/N smiled, reaching across the table to tangle her fingers with his. His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, the small gesture of affection somehow more intimate than all they had shared before. "That I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
The look he gave her in response—wonder mixed with disbelief, as if he couldn't quite fathom his good fortune—was worth every hardship, every battle, every moment of uncertainty that had led them to this strange new world and the life they were building together.
"Yeah," he agreed, squeezing her hand gently. "We all are."
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Hoped you liked this... I put a lot into writing.. like so much it is not even funny...
I am getting busy again, and prob won't be updating for a long time :( Hope y'all liked the stories I've been writing and posting. It was originally for me, but it's a pleasure to share!
Hopefully, I'll get the motivation to write Omni-Mark Smut one day🙏
Much love ♡
Pt.1
Pt.2
Lead up series!! (Invincible variants x reader 1-10 parts) + Sinister Smut