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nihildenial · 2 months

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"Fifty Shades of Pink" a Papa Emeritus III x Omega fic

SMUT UNDER CUT

one chapter ; wc: 6,586

There wasn’t much that could surprise Omega anymore. He’s been topside for about six years now, served as rhythm guitarist for three Papas, and performed countless ritual performances.

This, however, was something new.

“Isn’t it perfecto ?” The short man in front of him throws his arms wide and does a slow spin.

Omega simply blinks his lavender eyes and tries his best to think of a way to put what he’s thinking into nice-enough words. Why the hell did he agree to go to the cobbler to pick up the Terzo’s loafers and leave his kin with the man? “It’s…tailored nicely.”

Terzo Emeritus, Papa Emeritus III, a forty-three year old, pouts like an affronted child. He turns back to the large floor length mirror and takes in his appearance from the tailors’ platform. “I think I look like I belong in one of those fancy Ivy League college fraternities! Alpha told me pink was my color. Imagine a beer in my hand.”

“You took advice from Alpha? The Ghoul who still puts on different colored socks because he’s too lazy to find a pair from his dresser?”

The raven-haired man huffs, “You were too busy with Francesco! Maybe if you weren’t such a bossy-pants, you would have been here. I think I’ll keep it like this just to show you that I do look handsome.”

Omega sets down the several pairs of ties and socks on the vacant chair next to the platform. Of course his kin would disappear when someone had to tell Terzo he looked like a bottle of pepto-bismol. “I didn’t say you weren’t handsome. It’s tailored well to your figure. The color on the other hand…”

“Pink is the new black! Slimming for the masculine shape, and feminine to complement the olive tone of my sun-kissed Italian tan.”

The large Quintessence Ghoul sighs, “Just humor me and try the gold that we originally agreed on.”

“No!” Terzo steps off the platform, losing the extra inches of height. “I like this. We’re going to check out and go back to the Ministry.”

“You look like a child dressed for church.” He could pick the small man up with one hand and shake him like a naughty toddler.

Terzo flips a loose bang out of his eyes, “I’ll let you be the first to take it off me.”

Omega holds back a grumble, “What is the horrible pink shirt for anyway? You’re still getting the white suit, right?”

“Of course, I’m getting the white suit! This is for a new music video; Sister Imperator finally said the budget was thick enough to shoot it,” His fingers make sure the Grucifix cufflinks are facing the same direction, leading Omega and his purchases to the Ralph Lauren counter.

“Mr. Emeritus, I see the tailor was able to make those adjustments for you.” The woman flashes a polite smile.

Omega sees it falter a bit as he feels his four kin reappear at his side. Of course, Alpha has damn pink socks. “We are not getting pink socks too.”

Alpha puts the offending socks on top of Omega’s well-chosen accessories. “He looks good in pink.”

“I’m buying the damn socks, Omega,” Terzo affirms and lets the woman take all the items to begin scanning.

Omega could be petty and not hand over the Ministry credit card, but Terzo strikes him with a look that promises a reward for being good. “Fine,” He grumbles and nudges Alpha out of the way so he can sign the receipt. The woman hands back the large items in several bags and the five glamoured hellbeasts follow their leader out onto the busy 5th Avenue streets. Glamouring all of them, they walk undisturbed down the block to where a sleek SUV idles.

“That’s what you spent all that time getting fitted for?” Is the first thing out of Sister Imperator’s mouth when they all pile into the car. A bag of clothing for some of the Sisters of Sin sits by her feet in the passenger seat.

Omega sits directly behind her, letting her take in Terzo in the driver side middle seat. “I said the same thing.”

“We like it, Papa,” Pebble chirps from the third row, “All of us back here do.”

Alpha and Mist nod.

All eyes turn to Zephyr, who is unfortunately stuck sitting between Omega and Terzo. “I mean…Papa can make anything look fetching.”

Terzo claps a hand on the air Ghoul’s shoulder, “Majority rules! Now, let us get back to the Abbey so I can make sure the equipment is ready for shooting tomorrow.”

Sister Imperator pinches the bridge of her nose, but nods for the Brother of Blasphemy to go ahead and drive away.

“I made sure we got the white suit, at least,” Omega watches the bustling city slowly crawl past them in traffic.

“I knew I could count on you, Omega,” She says, reaching back and patting the Ghoul’s knee.

—----------

For the music video of He Is , the Ghouls weren’t needed as actors or instrumentalists, so Terzo gave them all the day off–except for Omega.

“Your punishment for yesterday is that you get to spend the day with us as we shoot.” It’s like four in the morning so they could get the shots down at the river around mid afternoon.

He wants to whine like a Ghoul kit. “They’re going hunting! Deer season just began!”

“Maybe I’ll take pity on you after the lunch break,” Terzo chides with a wink, “Now sit in your chair and be good for Papa. You can be my waterboy.”

Omega would do most anything for him. Sitting and zoning out while his beautiful Papa twirls his dramatic ass around a sound stage may sound like a relaxing afternoon, but his kin are out frolicking among the large forest and hunting.

Terzo stands on his tip-toes to presumably kiss Omega, but the antipope simply smacks his lips a hair’s breadth away and bounds out of the Ghoul’s arms.

That motherfucker, Omega sits back in the shitty makeup-chair with a huff.

Sister Rebecca raises a beauty blender. Her brown eyes are bright as she’s nearly bouncing in place/ “Could I try something on you? I got a new, thinner foundation to use for you and the Ghouls in an upcoming photoshoot.”

He sees how hopeful she is. She wasn’t chosen by Sister Imperator to be in the music video because of her skills at makeup. Both of them were stuck watching this anyway.

Omega reaches up and undoes his mask. “Knock yourself out. Don’t be offended if I fall asleep.”

“I also have some head massage techniques I could try out…?” She grins.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

A few hours pass with Omega submitting to anything Sister Rebecca wanted.

The new foundation she got did make his hell-soot colored skin more luminous, and flattened some pores that he’s been a bit self-conscious of. She smudged some eyeliner here, a small dusting of brightening powder on his eyelids, and something moisturizing that tastes like cherries on his lips.

Omega can’t help the happy rumble when her manicured hands reward him with a truly sinful scalp massage. Thankfully it isn’t loud enough to disrupt the filming across the room, but Sister Imperator does shoot them a glare that sobers both of them up enough to stop.

“That’s a wrap!” Comes the director’s call.

“This was really helpful, Omega, thank you.” The sister begins to put away most of the new makeup. She leaves out Terzo’s papal paint in case he needs to reapply during any of the recording.

He looks at himself in the mirror, “I feel good in this. Much better than the grease paint of the last tour.”

She huffs a laugh, “Yeah, that stuff was disgusting to work with and have on. Here’s some wipes to take it off.”

Omega takes in the nearly flawless quality of his charcoal skin, “Actually, I might keep it on for a bit. See how it wears.”

“Of course, I’ll leave those here,” She rolls the makeup suitcase with her as she follows the production crew towards the Abbey sanctuary.

In the mirror he can see the reflection of Terzo talking to the two young children that were in the video. Their father was an archbishop from the Salem Ministry, and was one of the only clergy members with young enough twin children.

Terzo was always so great with people. It breaks Omega’s heart that he and his kin hold the man’s love and there’s little chance for mini-Terzos to come into being.

“ Grazie, miei dolci bambini ,” The antipope pats their heads, eliciting delighted laughs as the boy and girl toddle over to their watchful father and mother. He struts to Omega, taking a long swig from the water bottle Omega was tasked with keeping. “Wasn’t I absolutely sinful?”

The Quintessence Ghoul inclines his head, “There’s hardly been a time when you’re not. It was good to see those kids so happy.”

“ Sono una famiglia adorabile , quite the lovely little family, no?” Terzo smiles. He steps forward to peer around Omega’s back.

“What do you think? I let Sister Rebecca experiment with some new shit,” He turns fully to face the antipope. He relishes the shocked flush that crawls through the cracks of Terzo’s papal paint.

For once the man is rendered speechless. His mouth opens and closes like one of the fish Pebble caught the other day in the Abbey lake. “I…”

Omega sees his chance to get some payback, “I think I should let her do this more often, yes?” He makes sure most of the room has cleared (mostly just making sure Imperator is gone) and uses his larger form to back Terzo against the vanity counter. He lets his hands rest on those beautifully familiar and full hips and leans down.

Terzo takes the bait and sighs happily into their shared breath–except Omega smacks his lips together and pulls back before their lips could meet. “It’s a shame, really. My lip balm is cherry-flavored.”

The shorter man’s mismatched green and white eyes fly open in betrayal, “You motherfucker!”

Omega folds up the vanity chair and saunters to the doorway, “I might take pity on you after lunch.” He grins at the imaginary lasers shooting him in the back.

—------

Terzo and Omega have always been this way. One of them does something immature to the other, then other retaliates, then they make up by the fucking the absolute shit out of each other. It’s very much a game of cat and mouse or freeze-tag, making the four other Ghouls roll their eyes when an argument inevitably happens.

Terzo’s a little shit.

Omega’s a little shit in the form of a 6 ft 7 Quintessence Ghoul.

Nothing is better than the angry-eventually-loving makeup sex. Tonight was going to be quite a treat judging by the horny mini-glares Terzo gives him between shots of the He Is sanctuary scenes. Omega sits out of the way in his vanity chair and snacks on popcorn provided on the shooting table.

After another two hours of getting footage, the director calls for lunch. They’ll resume in another hour to begin the footage down by the river.

Omega doesn’t know necessarily what they’re going to shoot down there. But he hopes Mist is ripping into the throat of a deer on the banks and ruins their shot so he and Terzo can go fuck.

Speaking of, they do have an hour before resuming…

Terzo is engulfed in a mass of followers and Siblings. He drinks their attention as if he needs it to continue existing. He flashes that sharp smile that’s all shiny, white, perfect teeth and it makes Omega’s black heart do somersaults.

He likes to think that he controls the Antipope, but Terzo is a feral hellbeast in his own way. Even if Omega holds the man facedown against the mattress more times than Terzo rides him, Omega would fold faster to the man’s orders than the other way around.

The crowd moves towards the Dining Hall across the cloister courtyard, carrying Terzo with them. He doesn’t even spare the Ghoul a glance as the group filters outside.

Omega holds back a growl. So that’s how it’s going to be.

Lunch flys by. Omega tears into a pack of beef jerky and one of Pebble’s edibles. If he got upset, then he can go fuck off. Omega’s horny as shit and being forced to be a waterboy for a frustratingly beautiful and petty man while Pebble got to sink his fangs into a tender deer flank.

By the time they resume filming at the hill that leads to the Wallkill river, Pebble’s edible has kicked in and relaxed him some. Which is good because his anger shoots back up as Terzo steps out into the mid-afternoon sun in that damned pink shirt under a white waistcoat.

He looks like a douchebag actor in an American frat movie! Paired with black aviator sunglasses, it screams the wrong kind of self-assertion. But then again, Omega hasn’t really thought about what He Is is about…and it begins to make sense as they start filming.

So, he’s been an asshole for no reason. The song is a parody of Christian baptism rock.

Guilt rises in Omega’s chest. How many times has he performed this damned song and not understood what it meant?

The Quintessence Ghoul watches the group film shots of a handful of Sisters of Sin frolic in the meadow that covers the path down to the riverbank. Their flowing white dresses and long hair twirl in the gentle breeze.

It is a nice day. Omega turns his face towards the sun and feels how the foundation moves on his cheeks. He’ll never get tired of being out in the topside sun. The heat from the planet is a pleasant warmth compared to the spikes of fire from the Pits.

He hears water splash. Down at the edge of the grass, Terzo is wading into the water, while in that stupid outfit.

Part of Omega’s brain purrs in happiness knowing the brackish water will destroy the offending shirt but also–

What the Hell is he doing? That outfit alone cost nearly $3,000, and they bought it just yesterday!

Despite the conflict within Omega, he ultimately decides to sit still. He’ll give Terzo a reprimand after he’s done being a destructive little shit. So he sits, watching the Sisters remove their sandals and wade in a bit aways from Terzo.

All of them are only waist-deep.

Are they going to do some sort of synchronized swimming routine? Omega doesn’t remember Terzo being very good at keeping afloat just by himself.

To Omega’s disbelief, the first Sister wades to Terzo and he takes her hands in his right, cradling her against his chest. Her blonde curls flare in the wind coming off the water.

Terzo’s free hand comes up to rest at the back of her skull and he dips her back into the water.

Her perfectly tan hand slides up to his jaw, a teasing thumb brushing against the black paint of his upper lip.

Terzo submerges her entirely then helps her upright, the water rushing from her plump form. Her white choir robe clings to her now stiffly peaked nipples. His hand that held her stomach sneakily cups her right breast during the sloshing of the cold river water.

Omega wouldn’t typically be that upset; he’s always up for a third (or fourth, fifth, and so on) to join him and the Antipope. The Sister is extremely beautiful and has always been kind to the Ghouls, but this bastardization of a water baptism taking place in front of Omega after Terzo was being so fucking petty, absolutely makes Omega’s pointed ears burn with jealousy.

One by one, the baptism continues five more times. Each one has some naughty tease between Terzo and the Sister: the next one gasps out a moan at the cold water when she comes up, the third one unbuttons the infuriatingly pink top button of his shirt, and the fourth Sister’s breasts are basically exposed through the now-soaked white robe.

The fifth woman is more bold than the rest. When the brunette cuddles into Terzo’s baptismal embrace, her hand follows the same path as those before her–up to cup the blurred edge of his papal paint on Terzo’s jaw. He leans her back and submerges her.

She’s guided back up with Terzo’s steady hands (hands that are usually gripping Omega’s white hair as the Ghoul fucks the Hell out of him) and as she lets the face drip from her face, she leans forward and catches his lips.

Terzo doesn’t hesitate to deepen it.

And on the far shore, four unglamoured Ghouls howl with the victory of a fresh kill. It echoes so loudly that it creates ripples on the mostly-calm river.

Omega’s Hell-beast blood boils.

He leaps up from his chair and stomps past the production crew and down to the water’s edge. He ignores the sound of the crew frantically packing up as the scent of ozone fills every molecule of the air by the riverbank.

“ Get the fuck off her !” Omega thunders in Ghoulish.

The Sister squeaks and pulls out of Terzo’s arms so fast she falls onto her ass in the water.

Terzo goes to help her up but Omega leaps from the bank and slams into the raven-haired man.

—---

They collide and go underwater, Terzo’s hands grappling the front of Omega’s vestments as they resurface. The Antipope’s aviators are missing and he goes to search for them but Omega pulls him away from the shore.

“ You make me sit here all day, tease me, and now you decide to snog a Sister during a fake baptism, in front of all these strangers?!” Omega growls as he bodily drags the now fully soaked Antipope to a mostly-submerged cove just out of sight. He tosses Terzo onto the small silver of a rocky beach, making sure it’s enough to bruise, but not actually hurt him.

Terzo spits out some brackish water to the side. His face is equal parts cocky and affronted, but the smirk on his ruined makeup grows as he takes in the Quintessence Ghoul’s burning eartips and heavy rut scent. “It was Sister Imperator’s idea-”

“ I know it fucking wasn’t. You’re just a whore.”

Terzo reclines on the beach as if he wasn’t just dragged through the water like a piece of lumber, “I never took you for a jealous teenage Ghoul.”

Omega snarls, frustration only building at the man’s continued sass. Doesn’t he know what danger he’s in? He trudges through the water and lets his glamour fully fall. He feels his horns reappear and his sleeves bulge as they barely contain the soot-black muscles Omega crafted over centuries as champion in the fighting Pits.

Instead of flinching, Terzo’s erection hardens in his wet trousers. “ Un ragazzo così grande …”

That tone immediately dismisses part of Omega’s fury. There’s appreciation and lust wrapped up in that sentence. How is he supposed to stay angry when Terzo becomes so riled up when he’s in his most authentic form?

“I’m still angry ,” The Ghoul says.

Terzo slicks back his sopping bangs, “I would hope so. I’ve been so naughty I deserve a punishment; merito una sculacciata . A good spanking would make me repent.”

Omega reaches forward and slices through the white vest and pink shirt with a long claw.

“Hey! Fuck you, we just bought this! I could have gotten the salt out of it.”

“You’ve been sitting in brackish water for the past two hours and now you’re upset?” Omega rips the offending material from the man’s body to float off in the water around them. “If anything, this is simply payback. I don’t think I should even touch you. I should leave you here to trudge back to shore; water-logged, naked, and messy-faced.”

Terzo play-struggles as Omega grips his chin tight enough for his claws to press in. The Quintessence Ghoul sees his mismatched eyes roll with pleasure.

“ Filthy .”

“The correct word is-” Terzo’s shit-eating grin grows.

Omega has him on his stomach in the next blink, claws raking down the man’s legs to shred the white trousers. He relishes the red scratches that follow his claws. “Shut the fuck up.”

Terzo lets out a groan and his hands grasp for purchase on the slippery rocks. “ Omega …oh, how you spoil your Papa.”

“Right now, you’re nothing more than my bitch.” Omega has to re-glamour his hands so he can pry apart Terzo’s slippery thighs. When the infuriating man wiggles his ass out of Omega’s grip, the Ghoul smacks the pert right cheek.

Terzo’s echoing gasp is beautiful. Water sloshes over him and pools in the hip dimples above his ass.

Omega should fuck him in this cove more often.

Terzo makes Omega carry him back to shore after a rough fuck in the cove. Indulging the man who did make him cum so hard his vision whited out isn’t the thing he has issue with. Staking a claim on Terzo has only partially satisfied him.

The shreds of the blasted pink shirt swirl in his wake as Omega trudges back to shore. As the Quintessence Ghoul walks back to the Abbey at the top of the hill, Terzo lounges in the strong arms.

Terzo idly plays with the black chest hair brushing against his cheek as Omega walks. “Why don’t you like me in pink again?”

“You’re better suited to richer tones.”

“Do you think purple is ugly on me as well?”

Omega rolls his eyes and sets Terzo on his feet as they reach the Abbey’s doors. “Of course not.”

“I would like a reason, per favore ,” Terzo ignores Omega holding open the doors for him.

“You simply look better in colors other than pink. Even going a shade darker like magenta would bring out the warm undertone in your skin.” Omega takes the human’s forearm and turns it over, tracing a claw over the thrumming veins below the skin.

Terzo blinks, “So you aren’t just doing this to spite me.”

Omega’s thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Spite you? For what?”

“Because I had the other Ghouls come with me to the fitting and had you come later,” Terzo admits sheepishly.

“I don’t care about that shit.”

Terzo hums, “So…you tackling me and pounding me into the rocks of a cave wasn’t a consequence of your jealousy from earlier this week?”

Omega takes a deep breath. “No. It’s because…I was jealous of the Sisters in the music video. How they got to hold you, how tender you were while you gave them an unholy baptism, all while wearing the shirt you knew I disliked…I want to feel like you hear my opinion.”

“Oh.” Is all Terzo can say. His face flushes in realization. “I probably was a bit mean and the gold was pretty… Mi dispiace .” He hugs Omega around the middle.

Omega sighs and pets the damp raven hair, “You’re too cute to stay upset with.”

“I promise to make it up to you,” Terzo’s smile is innocent but filled with the promise of something naughty.

The large Ghoul watches the naked antipope saunter inside without a care in the world. He passes a wary Sister Imperator and Cardinal Copia talking in the foyer without a second glance.

While the music video was in the editing phase, Sister Imperator called the band together to record ‘He Is.’ It only took a few times to get a good enough recording, and Sister rewarded them with a few days off.

Before Omega could even grasp the fact that he only had a few cleaning chores for the next two days, Terzo was rushing out of the studio room. Rolling his eyes, Omega reracks his guitar and chats with the producer about if there was anything he needed to drag Terzo back to fix.

“So, ‘Mega…want to come hunting with us?” Pebble’s tiny form pops up from behind the drum kit.

He thinks it over. He could go track down Terzo but potentially get turned away for the man to have a nap, or join his kin for the night. “Hunting sounds good.”

Pebble’s fanged grin is infectious. “Awesome! You missed out on Mist taking down a deer twice her size! It was so cool.” The two ghouls walk from the studio out into the courtyard where the other three Ghouls are stripping their clothes to hand to one of the sisters tasked with laundry.

“No more blood stains on these, please. It was impossible after yesterday’s hunt,” Sister Anais held out the basket already filled with Alpha and Zephyr’s uniforms. Mist is taking her time undoing her boots.

Omega easily undoes the buttons of his cassock.

“Now, you boys are going to be careful out there tonight, yes? The game Warden said there’s an excess of about thirty deer this season,” She says, nodding as all of them finish placing their clothes in her basket.

“Including the ones from yesterday?” Zephyr’s gray eyes brighten.

“No. New total based on the herds movement today. I’ll tell Papa all of you are leaving.”

Omega and his pack scamper through the courtyard (always careful of Primo’s topiaries) and out the gates to the hill that holds the forest on one side and the meadow that leads to the riverbank on the other. Once out of view from any Siblings, all of them let their Earthly glamours slip away.

Omega’s muscles have been crying out for him to move for a few days now. Even his hot tryst with Terzo in the cove wasn’t enough to fully drain all of his infernal adrenaline. He senses how the forest is filled with potential dinner, a group of deer only a mile away.

He drops to all fours and bounds away, leaving his mates to hopelessly beat him to the first kill.

Not many things were better than this.

It’s near midnight when the five Ghouls waddle back to the Abbey with bellies full of rabbit, fox, and deer. Thankfully they were able to stop before they hit the target overpopulated numbers. There’d be another night of hunting in a week or so.

Omega drops his body onto the Ghoul common room couch. He could sleep for a month, but then he’d miss Samhain and Terzo’s birthday.

Mist plops into the armchair by his head. “Those rabbits were so tender…” She purrs happily.

“My fox was delicious. I probably absorbed his wit and cunning.” Pebble maneuvers her so he can curl up with her.

There’s a collective eye roll from the pack.

“We’ll see if you stick a fork in the toaster again!” Alpha calls, snickering.

Omega closes his eyes as the pack continues to roast each other. He’s on the edge of falling asleep when footsteps come from the stairs down into the crypt that holds the Ghoul den. He cracks an eye open, seeing the common room is empty of his pack. He must have dozed for a bit longer than he thought.

The Quintessence Ghoul smells the air and relaxes as the scent of Maison Margiela’s Jazz Club fills his senses. “Terzo,” He says to the newcomer.

Terzo is dressed in a loose black t-shirt and baggy gray sweatpants. His face is empty of skull paint. “I was wondering if you were going to leave your poor Papa all alone in bed tonight,” He says innocently. His bare feet are barely audible as he steps up to the couch, tracing a finger down Omega’s strong nose.

“Sorry, we got back maybe an hour ago and I dozed off.”

“ Va abbastanza bene , Omega. At least, it would be alright… if I got some special attention.”

Omega pulls the man’s hips until he’s straddling the Ghoul on the couch.

Terzo tsks, “Not here.”

“Then where?” Omega asks.

“My rooms, please.”

Omega exhales and lifts the man back to his feet. “You should’ve just called me to come upstairs.”

“I did. You didn’t pick up.” Terzo pulls out his iPhone. Sure enough, Omega missed three calls and three texts from him.

Shit. Time to turn on the romantic gestures. Omega picks up Terzo easily in his arms, one wrapped securely under his knees and behind his back. He regales Terzo with how the hunt went as they ascend the stairs and make it to the man’s papal suite.

Terzo locks the door and turns to Omega with a coy smirk. “Now, before we start anything, I did get you a surprise.”

Omega puts his slippers by the end of the bed. “Hmm, what for?” He asks, suspicious.

“Well you still believe I don’t look good in pink–”

“Terzo, are you seriously still thinking about that?” Omega gives him a pleading look. “I’m sorry I said that.”

Terzo nods, “Yes, yes; I forgive you for all that shit. Anyways…I thought I would show you that I do in fact look good in pink.” His hands take their time moving to the hem of the shirt he stole from Omega, then pull the garment up and over his head to toss carelessly on the floor.

Hidden by the bagginess of the shirt is a baby pink, sheer lace bralette embroidered with cherries and soft ruffles. Terzo doesn’t have a lot of area to be placed in a bralette, but the sheerness makes the illusion that he’s filling it out just a bit.

Terzo’s smirk grows as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Omega’s eyes are glued to the slow reveal of skin and matching pink lace hemline that appears as the sweatpants pool at the human’s ankles.

The front panel of the panties are the same pattern as the bralette cups. It leaves nothing to imagination as the leaky tip of Terzo’s cock just sticks out over the panty hemline. The soft looking ruffles continue over the high cut expanse of Terzo’s thighs to disappear to probably cup his ass perfectly.

“So what do you think?” Terzo turns in a circle, and Omega feels his blood drain to his cock.

He was correct about the ruffles. Omega is dumb with memorizing the sinful sight in front of him. “Oh..”

Terzo gently lifts his head by the chin, tearing Omega’s lavender eyes from roving over his body. He uses his leverage to move Omega backwards until the Ghoul’s knees hit the bed. Omega drops back to the bed, stuck in Terzo’s laser-focused gaze.

“Now, il mio gatto cattivo , no claws are allowed to rip this delicate outfit,” Terzo coos, easily lifting himself to straddle the Ghoul’s wide chest. “Premium Italian lace…Rip even a single stitch and you’ll be forced to watch your brethren have their way with me.”

Omega snorts, cockiness rearing up at the demand even if he’s clearly losing the battle. “That’s still pretty hot.”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that you would be strapped to that lovely St. Andrew’s Cross?”

Omega gulps and his claws shift to human fingers.

“That’s what I thought. Now touch me,” Terzo says sweetly, taking the Ghoul’s hands to rest on the cups of the bralette. “A few more spoonfuls of Nutella and I’ll fill these, probably. Copia’s been making too much carbonara recently.”

“I would still love you either way,” Omega’s hand cups the back of his neck and pulls the man down to seal their lips together.

Terzo’s voice is pitched with arousal and fondness. “Sap.”

Omega’s left hand slides over the pink lace of his sides and down to grab a handful of Terzo’s ass. According to his fingertips, it’s a thin thong in the back, the crotch band barely holding a glass plug inside him. Omega’s finger stretches the fabric and he snaps the thin waistband against the smooth side of the plug’s base.

Terzo yelps, “Watch it, asshole! That could’ve come apart!”

Omega shrugs and does it again. “Seems fine to me.” He presses a finger against the plug and forces it as deep as it can go without getting completely swallowed.

Terzo’s hole resists, turning it into a game that leaves him flushing as pink as his lingerie.

“Didn’t stretch all the way for this, huh?” Omega coos to the human.

“I like it when it burns at first,” Terzo says, even if both of them already know it.

Omega grasps the end of the plug and pulls it out in one smooth motion. He lets it roll from his hand to somewhere on the duvet of Terzo’s bed. They’ll deal with it after Terzo’s cock-dumb and knotted.

Terzo is pressing a tube of lube into the hand wrapped around his ass.

“When did you grab that?” Omega pops open the cap easily and spreads a good amount inside the human with invading fingers.

“I had it in the left cup,” He moans when Omega presses against his prostate.

Of course, the bralette cup Omega didn’t feel up. “Sneaky bastard ,” The Ghoul growls. He tosses the lube in the same direction as the glass butt plug. He lifts his hips and slides down the boxers he put on after getting back from the hunt. His cock springs to attention from its confines, the tapered tip slapping against the beginning swell of Terzo’s ass. It doesn’t take much maneuvering for Omega’s head to find Terzo’s hole and push in.

Terzo’s answering moan vibrates through Omega’s chest where the man’s immaculate fingernails dig into his pecs. The Ghoul didn’t notice the coating of nude pink on Terzo’s nails. That wasn’t there earlier…was it?

Nothing else matters as Omega pushes himself inside all the way to the hilt. He feels Terzo’s ass resist him near the end but a carefully placed kiss to the human’s neck makes him relax easier.

“I bought this…so we could fuck and keep it on…” Terzo pants into Omega’s hair.

“So thoughtful,” Omega sighs happily. His hands shift to cup an asscheek in each, forcing Terzo’s center of gravity over his face and leaning on his hands on either side of Omega’s ears. It puts the cherry-embroidered bralette cups right in his face. He cranes his neck and sucks at a nipple through the lace.

Terzo squirms at the first few slow thrusts, trying to frustrate Omega enough that he’ll speed up without any begging.

“You’re so beautiful in this,” Omega fucks up into him deeper. He’s so slick and warm and perfectly fluttering against the ribbed sides of his engorged cock. Every steadily increasing speedy thrust makes Terzo moan like a whore.

As wonderful a feeling as all of this is, Terzo is far from his twink past where he could bounce on a cock for hours at a time. His knees are older and are already starting to ache. “‘Mega…”

The Ghoul presses a kiss to his cheek to show there’s no hard feelings, and lets the human sit upright. Terzo carefully eases himself off Omega and makes himself comfortable against the pillows, blow-dried bangs fanning out around his unpainted face.

Omega turns onto his stomach to cage the human in between his arms. Terzo kisses him as he lines his cock back up to his entrance, swallowing their shared moans. Omega does his best to stay attached at the lips, but he’s craving to watch Terzo’s lace-covered body writhe under him.

The lace is a more saturated pink than the stupid shirt. It complements the dusty rose of his nipples and the neat, salt-and-pepper hair that is smattered around the human’s sternum. It also fits well against the darkening red of his cock. The head strains against the thin silk waistband of the thong, the lace sticky and glistening as each thrust forces out another small spurt of pre-cum.

Omega wraps a hand around the lace covered cock and shifts the fabric over it. It moves the human’s foreskin and jolts Terzo into awareness at what he’s doing. “So much for talking about me ruining the lace…”

Terzo whines as Omega times the tight strokes with each rolling thrust. There isn’t much movement he can do with the panties, but it’s enough to send Terzo over the edge. His cock gets caught under the hem and his cum shoots from behind one of the cherry motifs, sticking the front gusset to his cock. He shivers in pleasure.

Omega doesn’t slow down. He knows his human isn’t satisfied with just one. He continues the steady pace, changing angle gradually to now rub a nodule on his cock against his prostate with every movement. Terzo shudders in overstimulation, his ass clenching against the invading cock. His nails dig into the short white hairs at the nape of Omega’s neck.

It all burns so good.

“I love…our little games,” Terzo breathes into the space between their lips. His mismatched eyes are lidded heavily, “You get so defensive…yet are always so ready to defend my honor. Fuck, right there, please…”

Omega places a flat hand on Terzo’s solar plexus and sits up straighter to thrust straight inside him.

Instantly, Terzo’s moans morph into punched-out whimpers. Omega’s fingers grasp the bralette to stretch it down to below his nipples. It acts as a leash to move Terzo in time with each roll of his hips.

“‘Mega…” Terzo whines, “Please, please…”

“Please, what? Gotta use your words, sweetheart.” The Quintessence Ghoul can feel the beginning swell of his knot. It’s starting to keep him from sliding all the way inside Terzo. He uses his momentum to pop in the swell and it makes Terzo explode with an orgasm again. This time, the cum reaches the edge of the bralette and Omega’s hand.

“O-oh, fuck!” The human cranes his neck to look down as he feels the knot forming.

Omega sweet talks him as he pushes the knot inside with each thrust until it’s formed enough that it would tear the human to push back out.

Nothing compares to this moment; Terzo’s musical whines in his ears, the mottled red blush of his chest underneath the cherries and pink lace, the gloopy pools of his cum from his two orgasms collecting in the thong and bralette waistbands.

“You want it, Terzo?” He can’t resist teasing him as he writhes. He can’t hold himself back, but it enhances the experience to hear the words from the man.

“Y-Yes! Please, ‘Mega!” The human yelps, helpless as a third orgasm overtakes him at the same time as he’s pushed full of Ghoul knot and a river of cum. A small indent forms as Omega floods him with enough release to knock up any Ghoul, female presenting or not.

It’s probably a good thing that Terzo’s the one taking knots and not Mist.

Terzo’s slumps against the fluffy pillows with a fluttering heartbeat. He lets silence fill the spaces between their panting breaths. “You ruin me for everyone else,” Terzo says quietly once they’re locked together and calmed for a moment. “At the tailor’s I agreed with you; that shirt was ugly. It didn’t match my undertone. Gold was a much better choice.”

Omega buries his head in the human’s hair so he can laugh, hiking up his hips so the angle of penetration doesn’t hurt his hips. They’ll be stuck together for a while. “You’re such an asshole.”

“And you love both my personality and asshole, il mio adorabile demone .”

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