I Deserve It

"Slow," she demands.

"So slow," Sam promises, sinking a finger in.

She wiggles and teases and finds a hot spot where she can press her finger against the thin barrier that separates her finger in Kelly's ass from Alex's cock in her cunt and this was a bad idea because these alphas are so comfortable with each other. No fiddling, no stupid little 'no homo' snarls like that one time she tried this with men. No, this is going to be a regular thing and outside of heat, being skewered at both ends is something she'll need a whole workout regimen for.

Then Sam puts in a second finger, and Alex bites her collarbone—far away from the knob of bones for a mark but enough to make Kelly melt and Sam spreads her with a third and then feeds the slick head in, rocking slowly to take it easy on Kelly.

"Warm," Sam chokes out. "So tight."

Alex goes still, resting her sweaty forehead against Kelly's and just experiencing with her as Sam puts her cock in. Not as thick, thank god, but thick enough and hard and long. Seemingly endless. Burning quick and sweet as she stretches around it and plunging deep until all that's left is heat in her guts.

"S'all," Sam promises, when her length is settled and her balls settle between Kelly's thighs. "So good for us, isn't she?"

"Sam," Alex whines. "You feel so good, next to me. Inside her and...I can feel yours, against mine."

"Me too," Sam grunts.

They like the feel of each others balls knocking together as they adjust to being inside together and Kelly's pretty sure she's a fucking genius for picking them. Kelly chuckles and loops her hands around Alex's neck and slashes her tongue along the redhead's throat, picking out real estate for her mating bite.

Kelly's full and suspended in four strong hands and lips are all over her face and the back of her neck and she's being used but it's also worship and it's very confusing and she needs them both to fuck her until she can't walk and also needs them inside her, long as they can, knots keeping her pinned like a butterfly as she drifts off to sleep safe in so much love.

"One or both of you is going to have to thrust, you realize?"

Matching growls and then they do, Alex moving her hand to press gnetly on Kelly's clit to up the burn as her cock grinds past and snapping into a dirty, needy rut that shouldn't work to get her off. But she's feeling so much and she's so happy it worked that Alex only gets a few strokes in before Kelly feels it coiling in her belly and around her spine, fiery and tense and then Sam moves, opposing the rhythm and the first time their cockheads collide, separated only by her, Kelly comes to with a shriek, her walls fluttering and clenching on Alex who won't put the knot in, the one she can feel nestled against her lips.

"You first," Alex huffs. "So it doesn't hurt her."

Lube is drizzled all over Kelly's ass and she reaches back with nearly-useless hands to help but Sam swats them away, leading them instead to Kelly's clit.

"Touch yourself, pretty girl. Help Alex get it in."

Sams knot is as hard as her cock and not as bulging as Kelly's used to but it's substantial and it isn't a knob at the very base, it's more like the bottom quarter and goddamn Kelly is going to enjoy that in her cunt.

With Sam seated and kissing and muttering nonsense against the skin of her shoulder, Alex rocks her hips. Back, forth, side to side and then forward and Kelly's body opens, and she's in and she's coming and there's no end to it and it sets Sam off and Kelly's going to drip for days, she just knows it and it's perfect and who cares?

Her own orgasm is sudden and crackling, exploding behind her eyes and inside her skull and everything in the world and she spins out of her body, maybe out of the universe. By the time it settles, she's in the back of a Lyft with a towel under her and her mates are holding hands behind her back and she can feel damp hotness on her neck and sore bones. Knotted and bitten by her mates, just like she wanted.

Sam and Alex each keep a hand on her knee to push her legs together to keep them shut and prevent the driver from getting a show.

===== ===== ===== ===== =====

Lena was top of her class at MIT. She's been invited to speak at Ivy League schools, Oxford, Cambridge, and the like a collective sixty-two times. There are professorships open for her at most of those, chairs pulled out with a little reserved-for plaque. Trinity College in Dublin has not-so-subtly implied that the dean's office is hers for the taking and their xenobiology and xenoengineering program is top shelf. Many of the refugee Green Martians—in total, survivors are now a few dozen—decided that the green in Ireland made it home.

Lena didn't feel clever until an hour ago. Now, with Kara curled behind her and her Russian counterpart koala-ed against her front, she feels very clever indeed. She's confident Kara won't mind.

Kara had expressed shame that she couldn't save Linda, with her desire to do good and her eyes open to the world at last and maybe it had a bit to do with how Linda was just as stuck on Lena as Kara. Kara's sleep-hardened length is still partially trapped in denim from her never-fully-shed pants, but she can feel the heat of it as the abused zipper's tab pokes at her thighs. Linda is awake and not awake at the same time, eyes open and fingers tracing spirals on Lena's bare breasts but not looking like someone aware of the world in general. Her equally divine shaft is soft, trailing along her thighs, pressed so close.

She had hoped that applying Harun-El to herself in close proximity to Kara would split them apart again. She needed the treatment anyway because without the powers it grants, she'd be killed if Kara really took her and Lena wants that. Not as punishment, but because she likes her alphas rough. Forceful. Selfish.

The last time she had an alpha, it was Andrea, and it was rough and dirty. Dishes thrown off tables so Lena's naked body could replace them. Textbooks falling to the floor with thumps. Fingers still savory-salty with oil and spice from cooking plunged into her mouth, two and three and once even four broad, because Andrea didn't feel like wiping them on the apron and Lena was right there, skin pink with heat and mewling for something in her mouth. Hoarse at breakfast from spearing Andrea's cock into her throat to wake her and hoarse at bedtime from screaming.

They didn't live together so much as abuse their privilege. Lena's done some filthy things under tables in boardrooms at Obsidian branch offices because it was her turn, and Andrea was rutting. Andrea racked up frequent flyer miles aplenty winging her way to Boston and later Metropolis just before Lena's heats. Even brought a glassy eyed flight attendant with her once because her rut kicked off on the plane and the omega wasn't going anywhere unless Lena got out a crowbar. Andrea snarled that the girl couldn't take her mouth off Lena's cunt without permission. Quite a weekend.

She doesn't need alphas for the easy stuff. If she just needs an orgasm, she's got the best toys money can buy and a few of her own devising. She'd sue for defamation if it leaked, but her custom lube's scent is based on Kara's musk. Synthesized from a sports bra she tossed in her hamper after accompanying Lena for a jog. Seemed less perverted than clutching the lycya between her legs as she rode a pillow. Again. That, and the fact that in the absence of the actual source, the orgasm she got out of that ride nearly killed her.

Orgasms, she can handle, but if she needs a fuck, she needs an alpha, and they need to make her dizzy and if at all possible, give her that tender feeling that doesn't hurt unless she presses. In her heats, she needs to feel them so deep that their cock's twitch and pulse anchors her own heartbeat.

A groan from Kara breaks Lena from her own thoughts.

"Wha?"

Kara sniffs.

"Linda?"

Lena

This is not the effect Lena was after. The wrestling match between the startled, spooked alphas was bloodless and quick, only destroying a stainless steel-framed coffee table and a wall that doesn't look like it's crucial for holding up the roof.

For Lena, it was incendiary, firing every nerve in her body from across the room. It should have ended with the winner—Kara, naturally—knotting Lena while the other had to wait.

But no...Kara's a hero. Damn her to hell. So she let Linda shower first and made some tea and asked if Linda was all right, and if her time spent fused back into her had hurt her somehow.

Lena is livid. Here's the woman she'd lusted after for five years and her sweet, innocent doppelganger—she'll have so much fun ruining Linda's virtue—and neither of them will fuck her.

"I need a cock in me," she huffs.

She hadn't exactly meant to say it out loud.

Two golden-haloed heads swivel to face her and two pairs of plush, cotton-candy-pink lips curl into smirks and fuck. This may have been a bad idea. Even for Lena Luthor, queen of terrible coping mechanisms, taking the strongest being on the planet—if not in the galaxy—and duplicating her so that Lena can get spit-roasted might have been a bit much.

It works, though. Kara slides out of her jeans, flinging them somewhere far away and pads towards her, barefoot and grinning and hardening fast. Linda follows a step behind, her gait looser, slinkier and oh-so-predatory next to Kara's regal posture. Scion of a noble House, after all.

She wants them to share her. Share each other, too. One could nibble on her neck and one could kiss her and then they could switch, melting her like a candle before she was even on her back.

Her forebrain decides she'd like to be standing, squeezed between them as their hands explore her. Older and wiser parts of Lena's central nervous system buckle her knees long before she can actually find her feet. They appear on either side of her instantly and the dispelled energy of two superspeed exits makes her whole body crackle. Hair standing on end. Skin twitching from the static. Twenty tiny, sharp shocks as their fingers make contact.

"Stay," Kara pleads. Her voice is rough, dark and jagged and her scent is too. She still fills Lena's lungs with clean rain and wet leaves but the smoky notes have changed, less like a fireplace and more like dirty charcoal and it works for Lena in so many ways. "For me?"

It's hardly the most dominant thing an alpha's ever said to her, but it's Kara and she's Disney movies and smiley-face pancakes and sleepovers she didn't get the hint during. Kara is Twizzlers turned into balloon animals and saying open up, silly Lena and sliding them into her mouth and she has no idea how they're not already married given how often she's licked and suckled Kara's sugary fingers while batting her eyelashes. Seems they didn't have a course titled Signals that Your Omega Needs to be Fucked Stupid 101 at the Academy of Argo.

"She will stay still," Linda rumbles. "That is safer."

There it is.

She's an omega. They're here and they're powerful and they smell amazing and she's not going to be able to stand, or walk away, or fidget or anything except what they ask. Millions of years of human evolution block it. Mother after mother into prehistory, Lena's successful omega forbearers survived being mounted and bred in caves and in the mud because they obeyed and did what they were told and the rowdier ones were injured, or ignored, or had fewer children. This baked submissiveness into her bones.

Kara's tongue dances on Lena's neck from the left, the hot tip tracing her pulse like a brand. For her part, Linda steps behind her and peels Lena's arms off her breasts--why did she fold her arms anyway?--replacing them with her curious fingers.

In her head, this went a bit differently. In her head, no one so unfairly sexy and casually butch as Ms Kara Danvers with abs that can crash the brain of the pilates instructor from across the room was a goddamned virgin which meant Lena wasn't going to have to direct traffic. Lena could just be because whatever Linda knew or didn't know, Kara knew how to make an omega scream.

Except she doesn't.

Lena, in her infinite stupidity, has fallen madly in love with two sweet, kind, amazing, breathtaking alphas who have no practice with sex.

She's going to have to work for it.

"Can you help us, Lee?" Kara asks. "S'new for me."

"Me as well. There were..."

Linda growls.

"Alex brought omegas. To relax, he said. I did not like their smell."

"They were probably frightened," Lena muses, patting Linda's rock-hard forearm where it curls around her waist. "Such an alpha, and to be some poor Kasnian whore grabbed off the street?"

She can't imagine how scary that would be. Well, she can and she'd probably have a different view of it and when it comes to these two, if one of them wants to hand her a ruble and kick her to her knees and fuck her sore then she's their whore. She's going to have to freshen her Russian and see if someone at L-Corp Moscow can discreetly discover what streetwalkers wear over there.

"Her first," Kara suggests. "She's..."

Kara Zor-El and Supergirl boil away with a scarlet blush, and it's Kara Danvers again.

"I've...uh...my hand. Linda's never had anything, I bet."

"Little tip? When it comes to omegas? Nobility," Lena purrs, slithering from their grip and onto her knees. "Will get you nowhere."

She curls her hand around Kara's length, smearing the pre-cum to keep things comfortable and curling her fingers where the blood pounds hardest. She fists her lazily, keeping her interested. Using the hand job like a bookmark. She turns to Linda and cups her length with her free hand, lifting the head to her lips. She twirls her tongue under the head and pushes slow, making sure she has time to adjust because the salty-musky, oh-so-warm head is so fucking broad it takes strategy and adjustments to her plan to get it in her mouth. Linda appreciates every instant of it with startled little gasps and fingers twirling along her scalp in lazy, light spirals and the other hand around not the back of her head, but around her back, falling into an impromptu back rub that has Lena groaning around the cock.

Blessedly for her, the shaft is slightly narrower than the head, so that was the hard part. She hollows her cheeks and sucks and lashes her tongue along the fat vein on the bottom. Linda's hands grip her shoulder and her skull hard and without the Harun-El it would be risky.

"Fill her," Kara grunts. "She's strong enough."

Linda shouts something in Russian, or Kryptonian or Klingon for all Lena cares and then she's coming, pumping hot and thick into her mouth until Lena's cheeks swell and she has to swallow.

"Good girl," Kara coos, drawing a full-body shiver and making her omega preen. "You took her so well, Lee."

Lena pulls off Linda's cock with a placating pat to her tensed, twitching thigh and turns to her other victim, cleaning what's left of her lipstick off with her tongue.

"Kara?"

"Yeah?"

"I like to be used sometimes, understand?"

"Uh-huh."

"So I'm going to take you in my mouth, all right? And I'm going to go deep and when you're ready, I want you to fuck my face. Can you do that?"

Kara looks down at her, darkened eyes sparkling across a landscape of bronze abs and the peaks of her small breasts capped with dark pink nipples.

"What are friends for?"

===== ===== ===== ===== =====

Lena abandoned reason an hour ago. After one sputtering, humiliating attempt to get Kara's cock down her throat, she gave up. It should have been nothing, given how easily she sank Linda's in to the base and the fact that they are identical in a way that makes her brain melt and drip out her cunt. But Luthor self-sabotage always wins. As Lena sucked her off, Linda's eyes were pale and pitiless. Like the Arctic ocean in a gale wind. Her posture and face were still. Blank in a way that didn't match the tremble in her thighs or the clenching of her abs before she came.

There's no history with Linda.

Every time she gagged or gurgled, Kara's entire frame went rigid. The more Lena's head spun from erratic breathing and the sweet spread of her throat, the more Kara tensed up. She was going soft in Lena's mouth because Kara worried she would hurt Lena and she probably would have stopped it if Lena hadn't. An alpha who won't take a blowjob is too good for this world.

Kara is nothing but history. The sort of history that when Lena looked downtrodden at her failed attempt, Kara got dressed, scooped her up, burrowed into the couch and cuddled her through three episodes of She-Ra until Kara decided Lena felt better. Her need to be loved was pitted against her omega's need to be fucked. Any alpha other than Kara, and she's not sure love would have won.

Lena has been naked almost since she walked in. Kara, damnably, has thrown on jeans twice in some misplaced effort to seem like she's not one of those alphas only in it for sex. To seem non-threatening. As if there's any unseeing what Lena saw. Un-touching. Un-tasting. As if Lena would want to go back to before she knew how delicate a task working Kara's cock into her mouth was, or knew how the anticipation she felt when Kara pulled her close was spiced with fear. Sex with Kara gives Lena more appreciation for rollercoasters.

After deciding something silently between themselves, Linda had paused the television. Kara's thumbs ghosted over her eyelids and Lena obeyed, closing herself off. There was rustling and clinking of belts and buttons and her senses honed in, her ears ringing with the rasp of every tooth in Kara's zipper as it peeled apart.

They scooped her off the couch like she weighed as much as a throw pillow told to open her eyes.

Since then, she's only had flesh and tenderness.

One upon a time, she drew a wintry goddess' seed into her guts.

That was then. Then had specificity. Then had a sequence.

Now has nothing but sensation.

"Turn her," one of them rumbles. Broad palms slide up her thighs to her ass and lift and once more, she's airborne and helpless. The mouth on her cunt pulls away, and she sobs from the loss.

She's turned around, and the other one lifts Lena to her mouth. Lifts. As if it's nothing to bring their meal up to their lips rather than kneeling down, or spreading Lena on a couch or the bed or the fucking floor. Easier to exalt Lena to where they want her than to sink to earth like mortals.

She's not sure which is which. Even the tiny nick in Kara's eyebrow from an accident on Krypton is mirrored on Linda's face. They've been careful to hide other clues.

They're not speaking much and Linda's been keeping up her 'disguise' she used as Red Daughter, including her accent. Lena has four gentle hands, four hungry eyes, two thirsty mouths dragging and nipping and sucking on her neck, her belly, inside her wrists, a hand shoving her head back and another catching it so the hollow of Lena's throat can be attacked. Sometimes the blunt tip of a stiff cock brushes against her as they stagger around.

Who owns what, she's not sure.

"No, no, turn her towards you."

The other alpha rumbles and compiles, hands abandoning her ass to grip her hips as they lift her overhead and turn her around. A tongue lashes once against her thigh and with no more warning, a mouth attaches to her clit and sucks without ceremony or pause.

Lena thanks whatever gods live among the gaps in the stars that Kryptonians don't need to breathe.