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swordgrace · 7 months ago

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𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.

SYNOPSIS: as the youngest daughter of alicent hightower, you are wed to the young wolf, cregan stark. what many believe to be a union of strife, such a notion is proven wrong very quickly.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 6.7K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), arranged marriage, reader is a targtower with pale hair & lilac eyes, skin color unspecified, first time sex (for reader), loss of virginity, p in v sex (unprotected), massive breeding kink, all stark men have a breeding gene, oral sex / cunnilingus (fem!rec), face-sitting, biting/marking, making out, lots of touching, missionary position, talk of having a child, soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: There’s been a ton of Cregan requests, so I hope that this satisfies a lot of people until I post another! ❤️ Thank you all so much for the incredible requests and support of my work, it means the world to me and I am extremely grateful for all of it. See you guys soon!

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 — 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐜𝐞.

The North was often regarded as a harsh and unyielding environment, with bitter, stinging winds and snowfalls that could bury men alive beneath their might. Such tales were often told to scare children or dissuade them from leaving the roost.

It was untamed and savage, according to your mother — she who vehemently fought against your betrothal to Cregan Stark, the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. A marriage steeped in wariness and discord, you had been pleasantly surprised by your husband’s kindness and warm stoicism.

Piety was a rarity in the bleak, bloodsoaked world you lived within — innocence was a quality as uncommon as a diamond in the rough. When Cregan had been offered such a sacred proposal during the last days of King Viserys I, he nearly scoffed at it.

A Targaryen, a Hightower — he almost imagined that the both of you would not do well together, and that it would become a sour union, made only to please families and uphold duty. His advisors, old men with embittered grudges against the South, cautioned him away from it, imploring him to wed a girl from the Vale or the Reach.

When Cregan Stark met you, clad in pale shades of sage and ivory, with lilac hues and a smile that could melt even the toughest of ice, perhaps it would not be a dreadful marriage after all.

Even with a dragon at your heel, there was something positively resplendent about you — Cregan could feel it within his marrow, a feeling seldom felt by any man locked in an arranged betrothal.

It was your innocuous, tenderhearted nature that beguiled him, as if you unconsciously drew him in with your honey. Your very first meeting happened to be to seal the marriage pact itself before you would be shipped away to the North, to be his wife and the new Lady Stark.

Cregan rarely found himself charmed by anyone, yet you possessed an inner beauty that flourished in his presence. You were your own flame, burning through his hardened exterior. He did not mistake your docile nature for weakness — you possessed a dragon, where he did not.

You were rather taken with him, perplexed by his outward ruggedness and gruff accent, the way in which he carried himself, massive physique clad in the thick trappings of a wolf. He was a mountain of a man, yet he handled you as if you were some precious jewel, sacred and worthy of admiration.

Alicent begrudgingly watched as you, her youngest daughter, untainted by her own fractured morality, was sent away to the North in the hands of some brute. For the good of the Realm, Viserys had told her, but it cut deeper knowing that it was you, her beloved flesh and blood.

Yet, as you found yourself beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree in the Godswood, hands bound with Cregan’s own, you forgot about your mother’s bitterness entirely — and you were happy.

The first kiss was one that would make a permanent residence within your memory for lifetimes to come. He had cradled your face, towering over you as if he were a solemn statue, but even you could see the softening within his visage.

King’s Landing was suffocating, more often than not. The animosity that festered between your family smothered you, crushing you beneath its sharp heel. You were no longer surrounded by bitterness and resentment, and instead, cloaked by the protection and warmth of your new husband.

The feast held in honor of your blossoming union was one of merriment, the mood lighthearted and blissful. You sat beside your husband, stomach tumbling with a coil of nerves. Everyone seemed foreign to you, unfamiliar faces with their northern attitudes and odd indifference.

You could not fault anyone for having their suspicions, given your heritage. Being a Targaryen, pale-headed and violet-eyed, bringing your dragon from the South — it must’ve been jarring. Growing into your station as the Lady of Winterfell would be a long and arduous process, but you hoped that Cregan would show you the way.

Oblivious to your Lord-Husband’s smoldering stare, you politely consumed bites of the sugar-dusted fruit cobbler, admiring the vibrant aura within the room. Your wedding gowns were as pure as the driven snow, accented with silver embroidery and lined with pale fleece to keep you warm, given the cold gnaw of winter.

If it weren’t for Cregan’s steadfastness in providing you with a new wardrobe fit for winter, the icy chill would’ve consumed your extremities from the inside-out.

Leaning over within his seat, Cregan reached for your hand, stormy-gray hues churning with a kindness reserved for you. “How are you faring, wife?” He inquired, voice a low rumble; a soothing timbre that sent shivers down your spine.

“Very well,” Warmth crawled along your flesh when he referred to you as wife so openly and affectionately. You weren’t accustomed to having someone be so attentive to you, hang upon your every word, treat you with such courteousness. “This is so wonderful. I must thank you and your Keep, for your kindness.”

If you were anyone else, Cregan might’ve treated you with a stalwart cordiality found in most formalities, but you were not anyone else. You were good, sweet, and kindhearted — above all, you were quite innocent. He would’ve been telling himself a bold lie if he hadn’t thought about taking you to bed several times already.

The colors of the North suited you — his home suited you. Not many men of his position were so lucky when it came to betrothals, but he felt as if he was beyond fortunate to have married you. Cregan only hoped to be a good husband to you and to your future children, heirs to Winterfell, with the blood of the dragon and the wolf in their veins.

He had forbidden a bedding ceremony, content to guide you to your chambers once the festivities ceased, instead. Cregan enjoyed observing you and your demure mannerisms, from the way you made small talk with those around you, complimenting the choice of food and drink. It warmed his heart to know that his wife was an amiable soul.

“You needn’t worry, Princess. It is my duty as your husband to show you a bit of Northern hospitality.” Cregan mused, a ghost of a smile tugging at either corner of his mouth. He rarely showed any emotion, let alone treating his subjects with a smile given his hardiness, but he did show a sliver of it for you. He didn’t want to scare you away.

With a delighted smile, your hand shyly curled around his, your skin unblemished and soft. Cregan hadn’t touched a woman as silky as you, and it made his blood run hot — an inopportune time, given that it was in the midst of his wedding feast. “Thank you, my Lord.” You weren’t sure if you were permitted to abandon formalities just yet.

Cregan huffed, gaze twinkling with amusement as he let your smaller hand hold his own, digits tenderly caressing over your knuckles. “I would hope that you only call me ‘my Lord’ if you’re angry with me,” His chest rumbled with an affectionate sound. “You aren’t in King’s Landing anymore.”

Embarrassment rippled through you, but before you could correct yourself out of anxiousness, Cregan gingerly squeezed your hand. Instead, it evoked a smile from you, the very same tender expression you’d given him when you were proclaimed as his wife. “I will call you husband when I am pleased with you.” You mused, bright as could be, and so blissfully naive.

Often regarded as a brooding, serious man with little traces of humor, Cregan found himself letting his guard down just enough with you. Of course, to any observer, he still seemed rather stoic, but the brief, fleeting looks he gave you, the threadbare smiles — it suggested otherwise.

As the excitable buzz of the feast began to simmer, Cregan stood from the table, wood scraping across the stone floors of the Great Hall. He stepped away from you, sparing the servants and guardsmen a word before he returned to your side.

“Is there not to be a bedding ceremony?” You whispered, stomach still tight and festering with nervousness. It was something you feared since you last saw Aegon and Helaena be hauled away for such a thing. The concept of it frightened you, twisted and unusual.

With furrowed brows, Cregan shook his head, offering his thick arm out for you to take. “No,” He grunted, noticing the swell of anxiousness etched into your features. “I would never subject you to such a thing, or myself.” He murmured, feeling you take his arm as he led you from the Great Hall.

Relief flooded through you, and you finally relaxed, seemingly appreciative of Cregan’s thoughtfulness in the matter. “Thank you, husband.” You sighed, gripping onto his arm as he led you into a warm corridor and towards a massive spiral of thick, stone steps.

Though, you still had a duty to perform — consummating the marriage, creating an heir. Part of you feared what it all entailed, given that Helaena never seemed pleased with any of it. Would he hurt you? You were uncertain, but you wanted to believe that your new husband would keep you safe.

Cregan welcomed you into your marital chambers, tidied and polished for your stay. Whatever belongings you brought with you, they were situated near a set of fine, wooden chairs circled around a stone table. Everything seemed warm and comely in his quarters, the direwolf aesthetic heavy-handed, the hearth crackling and bursting with ripples of fire.

“If there is something not to your liking, inform me — I will have it rearranged,” Cregan rumbled, following in your footsteps as you neared the open hearth, warming your hands and basking in its glow. He stood close to you, towering over you with his bulk and might. “How are you?” He asked, ensuring your comfort above all else.

There was little need for the hearth when Cregan was near, radiating a natural heat that drew you in. His countenance seemed softer, not nearly as impassive as he’d been before. “I am more than fine, I promise.” You assured him, hands wringing together. “I thought that I would miss home, but I do not. Isn’t that terrible?”

Perplexed, Cregan seemed inclined to listen to your elaboration, chestnut tresses framing his face. “It isn’t a terrible thing, princess. I would imagine that it must be freeing, to be somewhere else. You’ve never left the capital.” He replied, knowing that you were quite sheltered for most of your life.

A soft sigh escaped you, and you tried not to think about it anymore. You didn’t want to sour the mood with talk of home and the past — this was now. “It is liberating,” You confessed, craning to look at him with a semblance of wonder and affection. “I am happy that I’m here with you.” You spoke with genuineness and finality.

It was pleasing to hear you say such a thing, and even better to know that you truly meant it. One thick, burly arm slowly encircled your hips, bringing you into the warm expanse of his chest. “Good,” He murmured, expression steely. “That pleases me greatly.”

To know that Cregan valued your happiness was a wonderful feeling — you felt cared for and seen, shrouded within his protectiveness. You imagined that it would be a blissful marriage. “Thank you, Cregan.” His name slipped from your perfect tongue, and he thoroughly enjoyed the sound it made.

A low rumble vibrated through Cregan’s chest as he drew you as close as he could, tracing his calloused digits along the soft curve of your jaw. “You are very beautiful,” He murmured, timbre edged with a delicious husk that made your knees buckle. You shivered, something that he took note of. “Are you cold, wife?”

You nodded, sucking in a sharp breath when his lips neared yours. “I am.” A squeak escaped you, followed by a steady exhale. You had been kissed before, but the extent of your experience abruptly stopped there. You imagined that you wouldn’t be cold for much longer.

His lips met yours, the kiss tender yet passionate, deepened by your husband. Cregan found your mouth to be most pleasant, pliant and perfectly soft, yet malleable. You reciprocated his kiss, hands moving to press against his chest.

“Will it be painful?” You whispered, likely in an attempt to soothe your gnawing nervousness. Agony was something that didn’t coexist with pleasure, in your mind. You wanted this moment to be special and sacred, binding yourself to your husband.

Cregan hesitated, gently cupping your face with his rough palm, tenderly stroking along your cheek. “I wouldn’t dare harm you, princess. You have my word.” He assured, and it confirmed his suspicions — you hadn’t been with another before. “It might be painful, but I will be gentle. We don’t have to start tonight.”

Admittedly, it was quite the opposite for you — you wanted to start tonight, but you longed for clarification first, and he gave it to you. You shook your head, hands slipping toward the front of his tunic, as if silently pleading with him to stay. “I want to.” You insisted, looking like the picture of innocence.

As much as he liked you sweet and pious, Cregan had a feeling that it would be somewhat different after this. His gray hues swirled with a heavy desire, dropping towards the delicate curve of your mouth. “May I?” It was all that he needed to ask, and as soon as you nodded, he brought you in for a heated kiss.

Despite his appearance, a stone-faced wall of muscle and Northern strength, he was incredibly gentle with you. He held you against him, never tight enough to cause you discomfort, hands softly kneading into your hips. You kissed him back as best as you could, feverishly hot, butterflies erupting within your stomach.

His beautiful wife — Cregan could not imagine another, now that he had you in his arms. The way you kissed him was innocuous and tender, as if you were also terrified of making a mistake. Your purity, a precious thing indeed, would be tarnished and dissolved after this evening.

The thought of you, round and swollen with his child, was both tantalizing and tempting — well within his grasp. Cregan wondered if they would take after you, pale-headed with lilac hues, or perhaps himself. If the Gods were good, they would be a blend of the both of you, a dragon and a wolf.

You shivered again when your burly husband curled his hand into the back of your wedding gown, fingers slipping between the gaps, feeling inklings of your bare skin beneath. “I’ll keep you warm, wife.” He rumbled, pressing a kiss against your jaw. It wasn’t from the cold, he knew this, but his honeyed words made you flustered.

He dropped his cloak, allowing the thick curtain of fur to land against the floor. He was impossibly broad, as thick as stone, tunic loose yet snug enough to accentuate his brawn. You felt your breath hitch within your throat, swallowing another barrage of nerves.

Cregan’s mouth assailed your neck, hand peeling away the collar of pale fur in order to reach you. Every kiss was passionate, wrought with need, yet maintained that air of gentleness. Roughness was in his nature, but he wouldn’t dare fall into that pit on your wedding night.

You tasted ambrosial, sweet velvet beneath his lips, which peppered themselves wherever they could. He listened to your soft gasps and needy whines, your hands having curled into the coarse material of his tunic. He wanted to show you just how perfect you really were.

Suddenly, your gown felt much too tight and constricting, as if you would drown within it. You alleviated such sensations by loosening the bodice, tugging on the ivory strings. The fur became unraveled as Cregan gently draped the garment over the back of a chair.

Left in the thin, humble trappings of your smallclothes, nothing more than a corset hugging a linen slip, he silently appraised you with the hunger of a wolf. You appeared to be shy, somewhat coy in his presence as he looked you over, large palms settling against the swell of your hips.

“Why do you shy away?” Cregan murmured, chestnut brows furrowing together, tone one of genuine concern. You were the prettiest creature he’d ever seen — most Targaryens were known for their beauty, but you possessed it both ways, inner and outer, and that only made you more incomparable in his eyes.

Swallowing your nerves, you chewed at the inside of your cheek, hands fidgeting together. “I suppose I worry about what you’ll think,” A sore insecurity, to be sure, but something most young maidens possessed. Cregan’s gray hues softened, one hand stroking along the length of your spine. “That I won’t be suitable.”

A huff escaped him, a threadbare chuckle as he shook his head, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “You worry too much, princess.” That deep, thunderous timbre of his, husky with his Northern accent, shook you right to your core. “You are my wife — and you are perfect.” He assured, kissing along your jaw.

You exhaled, hands reaching for his tunic, wanting to see him without his clothing. There was a rush of warmth that crawled across your flesh, surging through your blood as Cregan pressed endless kisses against your skin. He trailed from jaw to collarbone, hands loosening your corset.

With a brusque tug, your gruff husband tore it from you altogether, tossing the bodice aside. “I will show you how perfect you are.” He rumbled, voice a low, heavy caress near the shell of your ear. You shivered, gaze half-lidded as you tugged insistently at his tunic.

The message was unspoken, but conveyed nonetheless as your mountain of a husband let his hands drop from you, only to tug the coarse, dark linen over his head. He was burly, broad-shouldered and thick with muscle, wisps of chestnut tresses framing his face.

Amusingly enough, Cregan possessed more of a cherubic, youthful face than you expected, yet his nose was slightly crooked from having it broken, faint scars upon his face. His eyes seemed wisened, old beyond his years. He reached for your slip, gathering the material within his hands as he looked to you for consent.

With your confidence rejuvenated, you nodded, breathless and wanton as you assisted him in maneuvering out of your thin smallclothes. The brief lick of chilled air dragged across your bare flesh, causing your nipples to harden, pebbling with the chill.

Fire danced across your physique, tantalizing and gorgeous, beautiful beyond compare. Even Cregan seemed speechless for a beat, throat reverberating with a low grunt as he motioned toward your shared bed.

You half-expected him to pounce on you, grab your hips and stake his claim, but he simply resorted to watching you slide onto the bed, covered in furs of all varieties. The frame rustled slightly, and you laid down, a picture of true perfection. Your crown of pale tresses seemed to stick out amidst the darker pallor of the furs.

Anticipation churned violently within your gut, arousal slick and mounting between your thighs as Cregan stalked closer, removing clothing in the process. You watched with bated breath as he loosened the ties of his breeches, removing them altogether.

It was to be expected — a man of his indomitable stature likely had the assets to accompany it. You nearly choked at the sight of him, terrified that it really would hurt, even if he was gentle. You sucked in a sharp breath, bewildered when he had reclined beside you instead.

“I won’t bite, my Lady.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly patting his lap as you crawled closer. He effortlessly picked you up, letting you straddle his hips as he admired you from below. “Hm.” With a hum of approval, he caressed along your form, stroking from your thigh to your breasts.

It was agonizingly deliberate, made to explore and study instead of acting upon salacious impulses. Cregan observed you closely, palm gently cupping your breast, thumb swiping over your nipple. You gasped, careening into his sensual embrace.

A flurry of desire bubbled within him when you planted your smaller hand atop his, as if encouraging him to knead and grope at his leisure. He seemed pleased, and so did you, a low hum escaping you as he caressed your silky flesh.

He made sure to show that same amount of attention to your unattended breast, slowly kneading into you. Those tempestuous gray hues never tore themselves away from you, boring into you with a searing intensity.

Warm slick coalesced between your thighs, only mounting and growing when he continued to touch you, hand lifting to cup your chin. You absentmindedly leaned into his touch, eyes becoming half-lidded as you rocked forward within his lap.

The sensations you felt were new and exhilarating, goosebumps dancing across your spine, heat pooling between your legs. “May I touch you?” You asked, tone delicate and sweet, a display of your piety and innocence. He quite enjoyed your desire to explore alongside him, and he gave a nod of his head.

“You don’t need to ask, princess.” He soothed, jaw tensing as your soft palms settled against his chest. Cregan’s stormy eyes didn’t leave you, carefully tracing each plane of your curves, the downy texture of your skin, the lilac glint of your eyes.

Your fingertips dragged across his musculature, committing each scar to memory, features becoming hot beneath his incendiary stare. He was your husband now — you imagined that scenarios like these would become commonplace. “You are so handsome,” You whispered incredulously, lips curling into a gentle smile. “Perfect.”

Cregan appeared perplexed, a soft huff escaping him as he trailed his calloused palm across the small of your back. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had called him perfect and meant it — and he knew that you did. He neglected to act, allowing you to explore as much as you pleased.

Awestruck, he watched with silent hunger as you leaned down, lips pressing against his own. A soft grunt escaped Cregan as he caged you in, mouth passionate as it tangled with yours. He enjoyed the feeling of your body snug atop his, your skin resplendent, like velvet against the grating bite of stone.

Dragging a hand from the swell of your hips to the nape of your neck, he gripped the base of your skull, gingerly kneading into your pale tresses. He kissed you again, oozing with desire as he stole every wisp of air from your lungs.

He pulled one leg up into a v-shape, supporting your back to keep you upright atop his lap. You could feel the thick girth of his cock nudge against your backside, causing you to shiver at the foreign sensation. “Do you trust me?” Cregan murmured, roughened fingertips dragging over the pliant flesh of your thigh.

There was an indiscernible look within his eyes, chestnut brows drawing together slightly. Your breath hitched as you nodded, and Cregan settled against the furs, strewn on his back. Those strong hands of his continued to nudge you forward, bringing you from his warm lap to his chest, and then a touch closer.

“What are you …” Uncertain yet filled with exhilaration, you had no idea what Cregan was planning. Your slick cunt neared his mouth, and your Northern paramour did little to slow the process, bumping you forward until you hovered above him. “C—Cregan, C —” Your voice tapered off into a whine.

His tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, a sensation that immediately made your knees buckle. You used the headboard to brace yourself, mouth tearing open as a strangled gasp escaped you. Part of you feared sitting down entirely, but Cregan coaxed you down, hands digging into your haunches.

Your reaction was beyond worthwhile, body trembling and coiled, hand scrambling to brace yourself as the other fervently dug into his chestnut tresses. You never imagined that such pleasure was even possible, filling you with an excitable ecstasy that sank into your bones.

Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.

Even when he rested beneath you, he still seemed indomitable, perhaps a touch intimidating. You didn’t look down, body involuntarily trembling and rocking forward, back beginning to arch. “Gods, a—ah!” You stammered, thighs twitching and quivering as his tongue gently flicked over your clit.

Visibly flustered, you felt so strange and smitten, riding your husband’s face as you would your dragon. It filled your belly with a rousing fire, one bright enough to consume the rest of your body, licking along the length of your spine.

A low rumble emerged from Cregan’s chest, a vibration that rattled you to your core. He wanted you to have your fill, take as much as you could and drown within pleasure. Your maidenhead was still intact, a virtue that he did not treat lightly. He didn’t feel the need to breathe, lapping at your cunt with a wolfish gluttony.

You were undeniably soaked, like a fine stout upon his tongue as he devoured you. Cregan was passionate, each stroke of his tongue ensuring that you felt it all, bliss erupting throughout your stomach.

Chasing after what you imagined to be your release, you happened to peer down for a moment, finding the contented face of your husband, whose face was lodged between your legs. His brows were creased in concentration, tongue prodding against your entrance before languidly flicking back to your clit.

It was only when he pursed his lips around that sensitive clutch of nerves, that you nearly collapsed around him. Even your draconic blood could melt, tempered by the hardened ice of your Northern paramour. You gasped, hips stuttering as your thighs squeezed at either side of his head — fortunately, he didn’t seem to care.

The only thing you wanted was this, forever — your husband’s tongue between your legs, a sanctuary in the North with a potential family, a life in which you could finally find your solace. You continued to squirm and writhe, moaning his praises into the warmth of your chambers.

As you approached your peak, you grappled with Cregan’s tresses, tugging at the root as you rocked forward, again and again. “Cregan,” You moaned, countenance contorting into a look of sheer pleasure, bones crawling with an insatiable heat. “Cregan, Cregan, please!” It was a siren’s song of desire.

He did not stop, but he didn’t change course, either. Instead, he simply continued on, suckling at your clit as he intermingled it with timed laps of his tongue. Your release slammed into you, white-hot and blistering, gnawing away at your stomach as that coil of heat effectively snapped.

A whine emerged from you, one that was nearly breathless as you rocked forward again, legs shaking from ecstasy as you rode out your peak. Cregan, ever the dutiful husband, lapped at your nectar, savoring the taste, the scent of a pleasurable aftermath.

“What —” You had to catch your breath again, attempting to recuperate as you sat back on his chest instead, thick, burly muscle plentiful enough to cushion you. “Where did you learn how to do that?” It was an innocuous question, one so sweetly-spoken that it nearly caused Cregan to chuckle.

He did, however, smile — a rare, sentimental gesture reserved only for you. It was threadbare, and if it weren’t for the nature of your relationship, one might’ve thought him to be rugged and indifferent. “You need only ask, princess, and I will oblige.” His voice was a deep rumble that warmed your insides.

You thoroughly enjoyed the nickname of princess — a term of endearment given your status, but you were a princess no longer. “I am a lady of the North now, aren’t I? A princess no longer,” You proclaimed, skin shimmering with perspiration. “What will you call me, now?” You asked.

“Hm,” Cregan contemplated, pressing a kiss against your leg before he sat up enough to have a good look at you, chin still glistening with your slick. The sight was lewd, enough to make you unbelievably flustered as he grew closer, nearly chest-to-chest with you. “Lady Stark would suffice.” He murmured.

Something amorous burned within you, a smolder that soon turned to ignited sparks. “It would please me greatly.” You hummed, running your hands over his biceps before Cregan gently changed places with you, moving you beneath his bulk, comfortable upon your back.

Soft was a mere understatement — he could feel himself melt. It was not your dragon’s blood or heat that made him crumble, but your heart. He could imagine you as the mother of his children, belly round with his heirs, the Lady of Winterfell, a Hightower no longer.

He settled between your legs, and you gasped when his cock gently glided against your slick core. Cregan knew to temper himself, to be as gentle as he could with it being your wedding night, but his resolve was steadily diminished in your presence. He steeled himself, pressing a string of kisses along your body.

Without thinking, you unconsciously goaded Cregan into a point of near-frenzy. Your hands found the taut, trunk-like muscle of his biceps, visage filled with a sense of awe and adoration. “A child would please me greatly.” You confessed, having no clue what it would do to your husband.

Cregan stopped, digits curling into the thick furs on either side of your head. It took every fiber of his being not to fuck you then and there — and he wouldn’t, it wasn’t right for him to take your maidenhead with such roughness. His fantasy became reality, a visceral, beautiful vision that made him grunt, jaw unnaturally tense.

His rough palm soothingly stroked along your thigh, lust swelling within him like a blizzard, a violent storm of need that transcended all bonds of propriety. “Does Lady Stark want me to put a pup in her belly?” Cregan rumbled, tempestuous hues ignited with a fire that demanded to be extinguished, sending shockwaves right to your core.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, shuddering at the sound of his voice — an edged husk, like the rumbling of thunder before a deluge or the shaking of a mountain. “Yes,” You exhaled, searching his countenance, only to find desire. “I would.”

The Gods were testing him, aiming to see if he would break beneath the pressure, but he refused. Cregan lowered himself over you, lips molding themselves against yours in a hot kiss. Your hands remained poised atop his biceps, barely able to wrap themselves around the thick, corded muscle.

He wasn’t much of a talker, and it quickly dwindled into deep grunts and heavier sighs as he aligned his cock with your entrance. He made sure to part your legs, keeping them spread as he began to push inside of you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, startled at the twinge of pain, the discomfort of it all.

Cregan despised the mere thought of causing you harm, and even he was willing to end it all then and there. “We don’t have to continue, beloved.” He rumbled, pressing a soothing string of kisses along your face. The endearing nickname made you preen, nails digging into his arms.

“No, I — I’m well enough,” You breathed, insistent on continuing. Cregan deliberated, but when you let out a low whine, he obeyed your command. “Gods, I need you, Cregan.” Pitched with a wanton resonance, you urged him to keep going.

Your neediness made his blood run hot, and he nodded, sluggishly resuming his pace. He continued to tilt his hips forward, cock feeding into you, inch by agonizing inch. Cregan felt the desperate bite of your nails clutching into muscle, leaving behind angry crescents.

You were never fully warned of the pain, the discomfort that accompanied pleasure. It was always sold as some fantasy, particularly for men — nights of heavenly passion resulting in bliss. For you, it was simply a marital duty to provide your husband with an heir, but this transcended that. Passion and affection sparked between the both of you, and it felt right.

As Cregan finally bottomed out inside of you, he allowed you time to fully adjust, rocking into you at a lackadaisical pace. He continued to shower you in kisses, wherever his lips could reach, giving particular affection to the crook of your neck.

Whatever discontent you felt, you hastily pushed it aside, tossing it into the recesses of your mind. Instead, you focused on him — on how incredible he made you feel, the warmth you experienced in his presence. One of your hands slipped to thread within his chestnut tresses, mouth agape.

You took him so well — better than expected, and it filled him with a sense of pride and ardor. Cregan pressed hungry kisses along your throat, nose buried into the hollow of it, right beneath your jugular. He continued to go slow, afraid of causing you further pain.

Cregan repositioned his hand, leaving one lodged beside your head, the other sinking into your haunch, digits tenderly kneading into your thigh. It was an offer of reassurance, and he watched your countenance shift from discontented to relaxed.

“Move,” The sharpness of your command brought him to heel, and he very nearly smiled — it was there, the ghost of it toying at his lips. Bringing his hips back and then forward, you moaned, knowing that the sting of pain would soon blossom into pleasure. “Please.”

Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, arousal thick between your legs as Cregan began to find his pace, a rhythm that shook you to your core. He was so very gentle, even for a man of his herculean mass and muscle. He took care of you, soothingly caressing your thigh as he thrusted into you.

His cock filled you completely, a stretch that would take you more than just one night to adjust to. Your maidenhead was gone, your cunt tight around his length, pulling him in again and again.

Cregan’s breathing became heavier, somewhat labored as he consummated your union. Each snap of his hips held meaning, beyond the creation of an heir. It was tenuous with feelings, a burning sentiment he felt for you, ardor that had grown into a fire.

Admittedly, his mind was hazy, fueled by desire and the mere thought of you wanting a child — you had asked it of him, demanded, and he was at your mercy. Cregan couldn’t have gotten any luckier with you, the most resplendent woman he’d ever seen.

Imagining you full and round, still as lovely as the day he set his eyes upon you, a mother and a dragon — it was nothing short of true perfection. He chased after it, evident by the growing vigor and passion in each thrust of his hips, cock nearly tearing you into two.

No matter how gentle and careful Cregan was with you, it was to no avail, but you no longer cared. “Cregan,” You moaned, lifting one leg to hitch it around his waist, and that only seemed to further spur him on, allowing him to hit new depths. His throbbing length nearly kissed your womb, filling you to the brim. “Cregan!” You cried.

For a moment, you feared being split in-half by your mountain of a husband, but he slowed enough to let you recuperate, throat reverberating with carnal grunts. The rumbling of his chest, the heat that radiated from him in waves — it was all perfect.

It was driving him mad, the way your cunt constricted around his cock, the way in which your back arched from the furs, chest brushing against his. Cregan grunted, jaw set and brows furrowed in concentration as he kneaded into your thigh, something to alleviate his tension.

His thrusts deepened, became passionate and invigorated with love, and each snap of his hips made your head spin with delirium. You were drunk on desire, clinging to him as if you were a drowning maiden, hand splayed against his shoulder.

Whenever he happened to become a touch too vigorous, he felt your nails dig deep into his flesh, leaving behind the reddened marks of your consummation. Cregan was getting close, chest erupting with labored pants as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You moaned, body bending beneath his passion, malleable within his hands. His cock throbbed within you as he sought to spill his seed, face against yours, lips occasionally connecting in a series of sloppy, warm kisses. Everything felt incredible, in ways that you couldn’t comprehend.

He was so burly, a thick wall of impenetrable muscle that seemed to envelop you entirely, shield you from everything else, from all harm. Strands of chestnut stuck to his temples, flesh glittering with perspiration from the exertion of lovemaking, coupled with the heat in your chambers.

With another brusque thrust of his hips, he settled inside of you, reaching his peak with a subtle groan. His seed filled your cunt in hot ropes, more than enough to take, if the Gods were good. Cregan exhaled, feverishly hot as he began to recuperate, neglecting to remove himself from you for a few moments.

“Are you alright?” Cregan murmured, ensuring your wellbeing first, above all else. A stinging soreness settled into your thighs and your core, but you would survive. He didn’t completely obliterate you, thankfully — you wondered what he would be like, unrestrained.

“Yes,” You smiled, visibly flustered beneath the intensity of his stare. “That was incredible.” Your confession made him huff, likely one of amusement as he pressed a kiss against your forehead. Even you glittered with sweat, but that was to be expected.

You already wanted more — and you nearly asked it of him.

Lascivious fantasies took root within your mind, and the mere idea of him being rough and completely domineering made your cunt throb. You could not do it now, given how exhausted you were, but he had certainly unlocked a new side to you, a side that you were unfamiliar with.

Cregan pulled himself from you, propping your hips up beneath a feathered pillow to ensure that his seed would take. He rested beside you, drawing you into the bulk of his muscled arms, allowing you to rest your head against the expanse of his chest. “You were perfect.” He rumbled, roughened digits stroking along your spine.

It pleased you to know that your husband was satisfied with you, much to your delight. “I am glad,” Relief rippled through you as you inched closer, perfectly slotted against his frame. “So were you.” Your pleasant accolades made him smile, fracturing his stony exterior.

“There will be plenty of time for this, that I can promise you,” Cregan was more concerned with getting to know you, his beautiful lady-wife, Lady Stark. “I would like to start with you.” He murmured, savoring the sensation of your fingers tracing across his abdomen.

You blinked, seemingly surprised by Cregan’s genuine interest in you. It made you happy — perhaps you could have both. Moments of learning and moments like these, where you could indulge in pleasure.

“Would it offend you if I asked you to do both?” You questioned, warmth crawling along your body as Cregan squeezed the swell of your hip, gray hues sparkling with a semblance of mirth.

“It wouldn’t,” Cregan mused, timbre dropping to a lull, a husky octave that seemed to envelop you in its stoicism and warmth. “It pleases me to know that Lady Stark possesses the appetite of a dragon.” His teasing made you squirm, but he simply caressed you and held you closer.

With a coy smile, you lifted your head, pressing your lips against his, asserting your still-lingering desire for your husband. “Not a dragon,” Your tone softened with a sweeter resonance. “A wolf.”

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction

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coco-loco-nut · 9 months ago

Text

Gen Z

pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

summary: everyone seems to forget that Max is 26

a/n: not my favorite, but it’s something i’ve been working on for a while there will be no part two

requests open masterlist

—————

Breaking up with Kelly was extremely difficult for Max to do. Despite not being in love with her anymore, he was very aware of what would happen to P. Max knew it was better to break up than stay just because of P, so he bit the bullet. The next few months were lonely, having to readjust to being alone in Monaco with just his cats.

That’s when you came barreling into his life. Only two years younger than Max, you were a breath of fresh air for him. He really didn’t expect to fall for you, not so quick anyway.

You knew a bit about Formula One, but it was more to the extent that your home hosted a race, some drivers lived in the city, and your hairdresser’s son was a driver. It didn’t phase you when Max told you about his career and fame, you just thought the Dutchman was cute.

“Men who own cats are major green flags,” you told him over text when you first started dating. That might’ve been what really made Max fall for you. You made him feel young, understandably so. He was 19 when he first met Kelly, and she was 28.

Max taught you about the races, you helped him connect with his inner Gen Z. He taught you Dutch and how to game, you taught him slang and pop culture. The two of you were sitting on the couch a month before the Monaco GP, watching Cars of course, when Max asked you to join him at the race.

“Of course, anything for Lightning McQueen,” you squeeze his hand. You knew from TikTok that Charles, your boyfriend’s work husband, was Lightning McQueen, but how could that not be Max.

“Kachow,” Max says causing you to laugh. He has been watching the TikToks and reels you send him, usually something formula one or cars related.

Max is watching Cars 2 with you when he points out each driver in the movie. You store the knowledge in the back of your mind for when you watch classic races and Max explains things to you. You feel sufficiently ready for Monaco.

“Lewis, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Max introduces you to the Mercedes driver. You look at him, star stuck.

“I loved you in Cars,” you blurt out, causing Lewis to laugh and Max to hide his face in embarrassment. Max isn’t surprised, but he can’t believe this is how your first interaction is going. Lewis is just happy you aren’t with Max because he is a driver.

“Thank you, how old are you?” Lewis asks, ready to feel old.

“24, two years younger than Maxie,” you smile lovingly at your boyfriend.

“I forgot how young you actually are,” Lewis’s unspoken words hang in the air between him and Max. Now that you are dating someone closer to your own age.

Lewis’s statement seemed to be the general consensus when everyone saw you with him. Max looked and acted like he was 26. He was using slang you taught him, he was making pop culture references that he likely wouldn’t have known otherwise. He was getting to experience his twenty’s like he should have been, not as if he was much older than he was.

Lando was the most excited to meet you, not only were you his age, but you brought out Max’s inner child that Lando never could.

“I’m stealing your girlfriend,” Lando tells Max, wanting to claim you as his best friend.

“No,” Max deadpans.

“What if Lando is my bestie?” you ask Max, who can’t say no to you.

“Then I guess that’s okay,” Max kisses your temple.

“OMG, McLaren is doing another hide and seek video, you two should join,” Lando proposes.

“That actually sounds fun,” Max says, looking at you for confirmation.

“I’m in,” you smile, letting Lando lead the way.

The video is a hit, the fans are loving this version of Max. Max is loving this version of him too, for once he doesn’t feel like he has to grow up faster than he should.

“Stay away from her, she’s no good for you. Act like a grown up,” you overhear Jos tell Max as you come back to the garage from hospitality. You have yet to meet Jos, Max made it very clear that he doesn’t want you near his dad. The memes the two of you send back and forth are a good enough reason why, so you hang back.

“What do you mean? I am. I’m 26, why should I act like I’m 40? I am happier with her than I was with Kelly,” Max argues back, you hold yourself back.

“World Champions are serious, mature. Quit acting like Lando Norris and more like an adult,” Jos is seething.

“Ask Max to come back here, say the team needs him or something,” you as an engineer when you notice Jos getting angrier.

“Then why am I leading by a heavy margin already. You just can’t handle that I am putting myself first. What would you even know about being a champion? You never won a race!” Max yells. The engineer quickly cuts in and leads Max to you.

“You gagged him, baby. Are you okay?” Max hugs you, you just rub his back as he regulates his breathing.

“He’s an opp, for real,” Max mutters into your shoulder, causing you to snort with laughter.

“God, I love you,” you can’t contain the laughter. Max joins in, your smile is infectious.

“I did use it right, no?” Max asks between the laughter.

“You did, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you take a deep breath, calming down.

“No cap?”

“Alright, you are using too much. Where is old man Max, this is freaky,” you take a step back, the smile that remains on your face betrays your words.

“You got me into my gen z era, you get the consequences,” Max pulls you back into him as you groan in annoyance.

“I love you too,” he laughs, peppering your face with kisses.

And when a journalist is brave enough to ask about the shift in Max? He’s always eager to talk about you.

“My girlfriend forced me to watch hours of YouTube compilations about formula one memes. We are always sending different memes to each other, she definitely helps me remember to laugh more,” Max gushes.

“I guess we all forget that you aren’t nearly forty,” the journalist nods. Max answers a few more questions before finding you in his drivers room. He lays down on the couch, his head on your lap.

“What’s on your mind?” you run your hand through Max’s hair.

“Have I changed that much?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you.

“I don’t think so, I think you’ve just started being yourself around more people. You are still the same Max that I first met and fell in love with, everyone else is just seeing that Max,” you are confused about the question, but answer him. Max doesn’t reply, he just nuzzles closer to you.

“I like this version of me,” he says into your shirt a few minutes later, you keep playing with his hair.

“I’m glad, but I like every version of you, Max. Even old man Max,” you smile as he sits up.

“Old man? How about I show you how far from true that is,” there is a look in his eye that tells you that you just started something.

“And how will you do that?” you decide to entertain him as he slips his hands under your shirt.

“I don’t think I need to tell you.”

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 grid #max verstappen #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader

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angelic--kitty · 7 months ago

Note

dilf arlecchino stretching out a virgin reader on her fat cock

dom!dilf arlecchino x sub!fem reader

warnings: smut (minors/ageless blogs dni), wlw content, transfem!arlecchino, virgin!reader, age-gap (arle is in her late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), size kink, fingering, penetration, handjob

a/n: tagging my favorite silly @myfriendscallmebun who i hope enjoys this ♡ this is so long

she first hired you merely as a form of entertainment for her children. someone eager to please who wouldn't require such a large salary. someone who, at least, would never ask someone like her for more than she offered.

it's a surprising decision, on her end, to select a college girl to watch over her precious children. though, you presented yourself so nicely at the interview, and your references and resume did you well.

besides, it might be nice for the children to be around someone closer to their age for a change. they often spent time with arlecchino herself and occasionally her coworkers.

and, you had grown on her.

it's been nearly two months since you started working for her, and a few weeks since you began passing flirtatious remarks to one another.

the thing that finally melted her heart was an evening she worked late. she was already irritated her children would be asleep when she got home, but she felt guilty making you stay hours late at her home.

much to her surprise (and inner delight), when she came home, she found the children tucked into their beds, and you standing so sweetly at the door.

you had slipped her jacket off, hanging it up and tugging her into the kitchen. sure enough, you had saved her a plate of the spaghetti you made, along with a glass of her favorite red wine.

that was the day when she finally asked you to accompany her on a proper date.

and, now, here you are, standing in front of your mirror, fussing with your dress and jewelry. the dress she had bought for you special for tonight. it was black, falling just below your knees- rather classy for someone so young.

20 minutes. in 20 minutes she was picking you up.

nervous as you were, you couldn't believe you were going on a date with her. especially to somewhere so expensive and exclusive.

it was some sort of upscale bar with expensive alcohol and food. somewhere arlecchino claimed to frequent often when she needed alone time.

you almost broke out into laughter when she admitted she hired childe, her younger coworker, for the evening to watch her children.

"oh, i'm not concerned for my childrens' safety. if anything, he should be afraid for his own." was her reply, a small smirk on her lips that you nearly missed.

she lead you into the restaurant with confidence, turning heads, eliciting whispers as she kept her hand on the small of your back while the waiter brought you to your table.

"what do you think so far?" she asked, her wine glass already being filled, no need to speak her order.

"it's...definitely different than what i'm used to. but it's really nice. i like having an excuse to dress up a little." you smile at her and she raises her glass to her lips.

"i want to spoil you for the evening. for not only treating my children so well, but because you are an exceptional woman. i only hope my gestures come off as genuine as i intend." she sips her wine, setting it down to begin rambling to you about the menu.

but you're not quite listening, distracted by her hands, her lips, her eyes. how could someone be so perfect?

she's quite a bit older than you, probably much more experienced. does she truly feel the same way you do? and-

"sweetheart?" she breaks you from your thoughts and you stiffen up.

"i'm sorry- i'm listening!" you squeak, but she sees right through you.

although, she finds it rather cute. she's noticed before, obviously. your wandering eyes, the way you bite your lip when she picks up something heavy like it's nothing, or how your thighs press together when she takes a stern tone.

she simply wants to know the depths of your affection for her. after all, she has similar thoughts of you.

"which dish would you like then?" she asks pointedly, allowing you to hold the menu with shaky hands.

"ah...um..." the words blur together, not registering. "what do you recommend?"

she tilts her head, taking the menu back. "allow me to order for you then."

you like when she takes control. she knows what she wants, and she will have it. you wish it a quality you embodied more, though she fascinates you. it is almost natural to her.

dinner goes rather smoothly, and you get to taste test a few different wines, but not nearly enough to get you even remotely tipsy.

"i much prefer coherent company." her lips quirk up as she says this, and you laugh behind your hand.

she's funny, you admit. her dry humor is one of your favorite things about her.

it's a shame when dinner comes to an end, but you two mutually draw it out as long as you can. you share a dessert, and plenty of good conversation about yourselves. you learn things about her you never would've thought, and likewise for her.

the ride back to your place is just as pleasant, though you feel nervous inside. you want to make a move. you want to ask her to come inside. to stay...

but you couldn't possibly. that would be absurd... right?

regardless, she walks you in, ensuring you get into your place safely. she's a gentleman in how she holds your bags and all the doors at every stop.

the little bit of wine in your system has you feeling bold, stopping her in her tracks before she could put her shoes back on. "wait! why... don't you stay for a little? i could make us some tea. herbal! so you won't...uh... be awake all night."

she merely tilts her head, nodding either way. she listens to your rambling about the tea and the coffee mugs you have, her eyes wandering your walls when she sees familiar art.

"did the children draw these?" she interrupts, taking one off the wall.

it's a rather rudimentary stick-figure drawing, but she can tell who each one represents. this is one of lynette's drawings. she's drawn herself with pretty blue bows, along with her brothers, and, of course, their father.

and you.

there you are, standing on the other side as if you were the mother to complete their family portrait.

"oh- those? yeah, the kids drew them for me... i thought they were really cute, so i kept them." you smile and her heart flutters.

she skims her fingers over the papers, pausing when she sees one from freminet. he's drawn a flower field of green scribbles and rainbow dots, the children playing on a swingset while you and arlecchino watch.

with the words 'mom' and 'dad' written above your heads.

she can hear you nervously talking to fill the silence, and she turns to you. "they really do seem to enjoy having you around." she murmurs. "as do i."

you look up at her, feeling her lean in, gently holding your waist. "am i being too forward?" she asks, breath fanning over the side of your face as you shiver.

"not at all-" you breathe out, trembling as she lifts your chin gently. she can see your anticipation.

"you're not phased by our gap in experience?" she asks. "it's inevitable. i cannot change it, but i do not want you to feel forced."

"i actually like it. i really like it." you blurt, catching her off guard.

"oh?" her voice is low, sultry as she cups your jaw. "is this alright with you, then?"

"please-" and that's all she needs to connect your lips, kissing you so softly at first. her tongue gently prods for entrance, and she can instantly tell you truly are inexperienced.

she pulls away, gently swiping a thumb over your cheek. "is this your first time?"

"you could tell?" you groan, and she nearly melts.

"it is not shameful to wait. i only want you to be sure this is what you want." she explains, stroking your cheek as your eyes flutter shut.

"i want you. please? i want you to take it." you leave it open for interpretation, but she knows exactly what you're referring to.

"if you're certain, then i'd be honored, sweetheart." she says so gently you'd think she was someone else.

you bring her to your room, cringing at the mess. "i know it isn't what you're used to but mmph-!" you whimper when she kisses you, pulling you onto her lap on the bed.

she trails kisses down your neck, watching you tilt your head back instinctively. you pant, overwhelmed so quickly she almost feels guilty.

keyword: almost.

instead, it makes her twitch within the confines of her expensive suit slacks.

her hand tangles into the back of your hair, tugging you firmly so she can nip at your jaw. she takes it slow, easing you into things until you're practically begging her to go further.

your dress slides off slowly, a treat waiting when she sees the pretty matching lingerie set beneath. it's white and lacy, delicate, something she could easily tear right off, and it drives her mad.

"aren't you full of surprises? naughty ones at that." she tuts, squeezing your jaw as you gasp.

she unclips the bra, her gently squeezing your breasts as you moan for her.

she teases your nipples until they go pert, wrapping her tongue around them as you arch up into her.

you're being vulnerable with her; she knows this much. she holds you steady, ensuring you feel safe on her lap before pulling away with a soft 'pop.'

she unbuttons her shirt, tugging it off to match you. she watches your eyes go wide, eager yet embarrassed as she tosses her bra aside with the shirt.

"you're so...pretty." you gasp quietly, eyes wide.

"you can touch me, sweetheart." she pulls your hand to her chest, allowing you to explore. your fingers clumsily rub her nipples and she grunts, guiding them into place.

"does it feel good?" you ask her so hesitantly, and she kisses the top of your head.

"you're doing well." she watches your gaze slide down, eyeing the growing bulge in her pants. she dryly grunts, lifting your chin up. "something catch your eye?"

"i... i'm sorry- i didn't mean to stare-" your words are mumbled, your face hot as your mouth goes dry.

"you're curious. that's alright." she brushes a thumb over your lips, coaxing you to open up.

she slides her thumb over your tongue, gently easing it a little further until you gag, keeping you just like that. your eyes are so wide and pretty, glazed over with untapped lust.

she hums thoughtfully before withdrawing, using the thumb to brush over the front of your panties. you gasp, thighs snapping shut as she pushes them back apart.

she lightly smacks your thigh. "keep them open." she rubs gentle circles on your clothed clit, your body clearly unsure how to react. she can see it doesn't take much to bring you to the edge, and she lightens her touch, able to control her own desires with ease.

her hand comes back to your lips, sliding your wetness over your tongue while her free hand slides your panties to the side.

something you've missed before, but she's filed her nails down on this hand. just for you, though only she knew that.

she gently slides her fingers through your folds, hearing you whimper and squirm on her lap. she tucks your head under her chin while she eases a finger into you, feeling you squeeze so tight around just one digit.

she gives you time to adjust, feeling you clutch her wrist. you're such an angel, aren't you? holding so tightly to her, so cute, all while you fidget right above her confined cock, inevitably making her grow harder.

her second finger slides in slowly, with an intent to stretch you out enough to take her cock more comfortably. she curls them inside of you, hearing you whine loudly into her neck.

"ah- that feels-!" you squeal when she brushes against your g-spot. her finger pads rub into it, and you tremble, thighs clamping down on her hand.

"relax." she reminds you, pumping her fingers in and out, slick sounds filling the air. she stretches you out every so often, spreading her fingers slightly and hearing you whimper so sweetly.

your hand clumsily rests on her bulge and her fingers still as she inhales sharply.

"i... want to- try and make you feel good too..." you whisper, looking up at her.

and who is she to deny such a sweet girl?

she pops open the button, unzipping her pants and freeing her cock, allowing you to see her.

your eyes go comically wide, shocked by the size. "that's... i-"

she can feel your walls fluttering around her fingers and she nearly moans. "it's alright. don't be nervous." she practically reads your mind, soothing your concerns as her free hand unwraps itself from your body, collecting some of the messy slick from your thighs, sliding it over herself.

"you haven't done this before, i presume?" she's met with a shake of your head. she proceeds to guide your hand in wrapping around her cock. she hisses through her teeth. "archons-" she groans lowly, her fingers resuming their gentle in and out motions while she guides you to stroke her cock.

"tighter." she tells you, feeling your hand grip more firmly, her pre-cum oozing over your hand, spreading across her cock. "good girl-" she praises and you clench around her fingers once more.

she says nothing, but she knows exactly how her words affect you. such a sweet little thing you are, curled up on her lap, fingers stuffed inside of you while your hand wraps around her cock.

her hand covers yours still, dwarfing your hand and guiding you into her preferred rhythm. "that's it. you're doing well-" she tips her head back, hips grinding into your hand as she lets go.

she allows you to move your hand on your own, finger-fucking you faster. she knows you're losing focus, too overwhelmed by your own need to cum, though she doesn't mind too much. you're just so sweet with how your moans pick up in volume, your eyes closing as your hips chase her hand.

"go on." she tells you, her voice stern as you release around her digits like such a good girl for her.

she slides her fingers out, admiring the webbed slick coating them, cleaning them in her own mouth as you shyly hide in her chest.

she pulls you away, laying you on the bed. "wait! you didn't get to..."

she shakes her head, pushing her hair back. "hush." she simply says, spreading your thighs, pushing them up to your chest. it exposes you perfectly, allowing you to feel shy, yet unable to cover yourself as she studies your twitchy cunt.

arlecchino uses one hand to guide herself through your slick, sensitive folds, gathering the remnants of your orgasm. she is gentle when she slides into you for the first time, a thumb on your stiff, swollen clit to ease the stretch.

she watches your eyebrows furrow, nose crinkling as she stretches you out. "so big-" you whine, chest arching up against her own.

your moans are melodies to her, feeling you flutter around her was like heaven. she lifts you up to sit on her lap while she leans back, guiding you to slowly take more of her in.

"too much!" you whine, looking down.

"you haven't taken all of me yet." she hushes you, easing you down to swallow her all in your pussy until you're mewling incoherently.

"full-" your head falls back and she grabs your hips, her nails leaving sharp little indents as she guides you to shallowly fuck yourself on her cock.

"such a pretty little thing." she coos, slowly growing more harsh, grinding up into you.

and, oh, you sing for her the rougher she gets. you urge her to grow bolder, now using your body as a toy while you desperately try to match her tempo.

you're inexperienced, but oh, so eager to please, aren't you? what a good girl.

she grabs your ass, fucking you on her cock while you keep a vice grip, your tits bouncing with each thrust. "oh- archons!" you squeal.

arlecchino picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, settling you beneath her instead, fucking into you with boundless energy.

she knows the right spots to fuck, where and how to grind herself into a woman, she knows exactly when to speed up and slow down. yet it seems you don't even know your own body fully.

and the thought of helping you explore with her is enough to have her twitching inside of you.

your incessant mewling and moaning of her name is driving her mad for you. her hand wraps around your throat, earning her breathless gasps as she urges you to cum for her.

"be a good little pet and cum." she orders, slick sounds penetrating the air, the smell of sex coating you both. "cum for me."

she rubs your clit harshly, watching you shake as you do cum, tightening up around her cock, sending her eyes rolling back into her head.

the moment you loosen up, she pulls out, cumming onto your tummy, creating a filthy mess as she moans deeply for you.

"fuck..." she sighs, squeezing her cock to ease the rest of her cum onto your skin.

you pant, looking up at her. your eyes are blown wide, but you look exhausted as you lay limply beneath her.

and, well, you'll soon learn her cock may need time to recover, but her mouth and fingers certainly don't...

#꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱─ 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 #ฅᨐฅ─ 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 #ʚ♡ɞ─ 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #arlecchino x you #arlecchino smut #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #arlechinno genshin #arlechinno x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #arlecchino x y/n #genshin wlw #wlw #🐇─ 𝐛𝐮𝐧

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neovillains · 25 days ago

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DEATHBED | PART TWO

( HE'S NO DEADBEAT : NANAMI KENTO ) nanami believed he raised his son well, only for him to turn into a deadbeat right in front of his eyes. don't worry, he'll make it up to you. | watch time: 3.8k words.

── gilf!nanami & fem-bodied!reader, she/her pronouns, single mother!reader, adopted grandfather!nanami, deadbeat!yuuji itadori, high age gap, cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, multiple (2) orgasms, creampie, pussyjob, etc.

note. i am going so feral over my own series. like,,, i want to gnaw on the skin of gilf nanami so bad !

gojo satoru | toji fushiguro | sukuna ryoumen

“I just don’t understand,” Nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he throws his head back in the stress of all this. “You told me a couple of months ago that you love the girl. Now, you’re going back on your word the moment the child’s born? This is not the man I raised you to be.”

“Yeah, well,” Yuuji mumbles on the other line. “I’m sorry for disappointing you, but I just— I don’t think I’m cut out to be a father. I didn’t— I didn’t—”

“You didn’t realize how much responsibility it would be?” Nanami finishes for him. “How old are you again? I thought we were over this conversation the moment you left for college.”

“Why are you giving me so much shit?” Yuuji groans, voice getting more agitated the more his adopted father continues to chastise him. “(Y/N) and I had already had a discussion about things and I would financially provide for the child. That should be enough.”

“That should be enough?” Nanami scoffed, baffled by the words of the pink-haired fool on the other line. He could tell that Yuuji was still naive and idiotic to think that money would be the only thing that you needed to provide for a child all on your own. “What about doctor appointments? Emergencies at school and (Y/N) having to call off work to get them— did you consider instances like that? One person isn’t supposed to juggle the job of two.”

“I’m pretty sure she’ll be fine,” Yuuji hums. “You’ve done it with me—”

Nanami couldn’t take anymore of it, pulling the phone from his ears and immediately clicking on the red button to end the call. With a sigh, he brings himself out of the kitchen and towards the leather recliner that’s starting to fade. The burnt umber starting to dull in its color and having more of an orange hue to it. Relaxing in the seat as he leans back, he shuts his eyes. Over the years, he’s finally gotten a chance to relax. Slaving away in an office for hours and hours nearly everyday and coming home to provide for a young Yuuji, it’s brought a toll on his body. Gradually letting himself go, his stomach has grown a bit more pudge to it and the blond of his hair has completely dissipated to white.

When Yuuji had found you, bringing you home to meet his father, he was happy for his son. You were such a sweet person who managed to handle Yuuji’s outgoing nature. You were someone who could provide him stability, something that Yuuji was in dire need of. However, Nanami should’ve seen this coming when the two of you had been together for ten years and he never mentioned the idea of dropping down to one knee.

“Fuck,” Nanami curses as he rubs circles into the temples of his forehead. He thought that at some point Yuuji would get it. That he’s no longer a child and has responsibilities to tend to. But instead, he’s still running from adulthood instead of embracing it, coming to terms with it, and stop solely feeding into his inner child. Though it could be a gruesome thing, aging did have its perks. It was sad to see that his son didn’t seem to find that within you and his son.

He wondered how you were doing. How you truly were doing. Reaching for his phone, he had never called you so periodically before. However, when he heard that you were pregnant, he wanted to be a present grandfather. But when he heard how Yuuji had broken your heart after so many years together, he felt ashamed to have ties with the younger lad.

Last contacted: Two Weeks Ago.

With a heavy sigh, he presses the call button and waits. He’s expecting you to decline the call but after four rings, your voice— soft— sounds from the other line. “Hello? Nanami?”

“Hello, (Y/N). How’ve you been?”

—

You’re a very eclectic person. That’s what Nanami has learned about you from over the years. When you and Yuuji moved in together, you had taken over all aspects of interior design, having a more maximalist approach to things as countertops were littered with drinkets and pieces that were so vibrant and full of color. He couldn’t tell what your style was— bohemian chic with a mixture of rustic and historical? You mismatched a lot of things, but they always seemed to be coordinated in some sort of way. In the end, your home was an organized chaos that he’s come to admire.

However, as he sits down on your couch, half of those decoratives and staples to your home are gone. Packed away in boxes as you’re ready to raise a child. Conversations between the two of you were short and brief, that light in your eye that he’s so accustomed to is starting to blow out and he can’t help but feel guilty for the role he has to play in this.

“How’ve you been holding up, (Y/N)?” He asks out of the blue. “And be truthful with me. Don’t worry about me relaying the message back to Yuuji because I’m not— if that’s what you’re worried about.”

For the first time in the two hours he’s been here, you chuckle. The newborn laying on your chest as you rock your little boy to sleep, you shake your head as the corner of your lips rise. “I’m not worried about that, trust me. I’m just trying to think about that as much as possible, to be honest. It’s been a rough couple of days. With postpartum and everything, it’s taking a toll on me while I’m trying to keep it together.”

“Has he been sleeping well?” Nanami gestures to the baby. “If you need any help with him, you know I’ll be here as much as I possibly can.”

“You know,” you hum. “He’s really not that bad. I don’t want to jinx it, but he’s been good at night. The days, too. He’s been easy so far.”

“Probably because he can detect what you’re going through,” he lets out the comment absentmindedly before clearing his throat. “It’s good that he’s not giving you much trouble though. All you need is easy right now.”

By the fourth hour, Nanami removed himself from your home. Seeing him out, you were about to shut the door when he stopped abruptly. “And I mean it, (Y/N). Call me if you ever need help. Don’t try to do everything on your own. I’ll be there for you as much as I possibly can.”

Your eyes glisten with tears as you nod. “Thanks, Nanami. I really appreciate that.”

—

Nanami had taken the initiative to do what Yuuji couldn’t. Making regular visits to you to spend time with you and help with the baby as much as he can. Months passed by and gradually you were forgetting about Yuuji. Even with Nanami in your presence, you no longer cared about the guy you had been with for ten years as the older man seemed to be filling this void inside of you as you didn’t feel alone. And when Yuuji would call, you’d always keep conversation short as your voice gained a bit more pep and you were able to get more decent amounts of sleep.

There was something stirring inside of you when Nanami was around. It was like he made the sun shine brighter.

Was this right— to be on the verge of developing plausible feelings for your son’s grandfather, your ex’s father? Adopted father, your brain corrected. Nonetheless, Nanami raised Yuuji as if he was his own. Were you just trying to fill that hollow void inside of you that was yearning for connection?

You loved Yuuji. He was childish and didn’t want to hold any responsibility, oftentimes making you do the brunt of things. Truthfully, you shouldn’t have stayed so long. But, you loved him. His childishness made you smile, his want for fun made the days go faster. However, you ended up getting the short end of the stick because of his ways. But still, you loved Yuuji.

Nanami was a tie to Yuuji. And whatever that was going on in your mind was still tied down to Yuuji.

The pipe was running for far too long that it called for Nanami’s attention. Stepping inside of the kitchen, he stands behind you and reaches to turn off the pipe. He looks down at you when you jump, your back hitting into his chest. Making eye contact, you smile sheepishly as he looks down at you in concern. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t ask if there’s something wrong, he knows that something is. And in the whirlwind of your mind, you blurt, “I think it’s best if you go now.”

The immediate switch up is perplexing, catching Nanami off guard as he instinctively takes a step back. “Huh— did I do something wrong?”

“No, but— but I think it’s best if you stop your little visits,” you continue on, turning your back away from him as you grab the sponge, squirting soap on it.

“(Y/N), talk to me.”

“I don’t think I want to talk anymore.”

“I don’t care if you don’t want to talk anymore, you’re going to,” he pulls at your wrist, dragging you away from the sink. “Tell me what’s with the abrupt decisions?”

“I—I—” you groan in frustration, flinging yourself against Nanami as you pull him in for a kiss. It lasts for only a second before he’s pushing you off of him, trying to collect his thoughts and understand what just happened. Your face heats up feeling like a complete fool.

“I’m so sorry. I just— This is why you need to—” However, before you can even finish your sentence, he’s pulling you back into his embrace. The warmth of his body makes you melt as you taste his lips, fingers scrunching in the baby blue t-shirt hanging off his body. The tension from inside of you is relieved as your hand goes to drape around his neck as you let out the slightest of moans. It’s then that he pulls away, a string of saliva following.

Nanami’s brown eyes stare into you, no longer filled with the youth of his younger days like how you’ve seen in his photo albums. However, you can see how they brighten up with you in his hold. In a low and raspy voice, “If this was what you were scared about, I would’ve assured you a long time ago that you’re safe with me.”

He plants another wet and chaste kiss on your lips, adding, “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to take care of you for the rest of the years I have.”

With your son fast asleep, the two of you become so enamoured in each other’s lust that reality slips past. Nanami’s veiny hands grip onto your hips with purpose and pull you closer into him. From the time he’s been spending with you, you’ve made him realize how much he’s missed out on companionship. How he had been so occupied with work and providing for Yuuji that he never took the chance to really connect with anyone. Aside from the occasional women and a few sporadic dates, his life was one of loneliness. Your lips are soft and full of life, transporting him back to his late twenties— blond hair and unblemished skin, green-tinted spectacles that hid his beautiful coffee-toned eyes. He was stressed out then, but imagine if he had found someone like you back then? Closer in age and held the same stupor that would make him realize his mistakes much sooner, he wouldn’t have ended up in the predicament he is in now. Kissing on a girl that’s nearly half his age, the mother of his grandson. He should feel ashamed of himself— disgusted— but his body craves this. Craves you.

You manage to guide him to your bedroom without his knowing, his mind so preoccupied that the moment you gently shut the door, he’s disoriented. The two of you have moved so seamlessly in the heat of things that it makes this all too real. But still, even when you’re sitting on the edge of the bed and he’s climbing over your body, he can’t stop himself. Lust-blown eyes that gaze into yours, he breathes heavily. “You’d willingly love an old man like me?”

“Yes,” you breathe with a faint nod. “Need someone to take care of me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Nanami breathes. “You’d let an old man use this beautiful body of yours— ruin it with his old cock?”

You go to cup his face, eyes gleaming when you say, “You could never do that, Kento.”

He grounds his erection into your covered heat, pressing his lips down on yours before haughtily saying, “Oh, but I want to.”

And your eyes say it all, giving him permission as you feel the fire that ignites in between your legs. Arousal continues to build up as Nanami’s breathing gets heavier. Aging lines that protrude the skin, cheeks sucked and exhausted eyes that reflect those many years of labor. You remember the words of your ex telling you about him, speaking so highly of his father and how he worked endlessly. Yuuji always said that his father needed a break, and finally does it feel like he is. Spending leisure time buried inside of your pussy.

Nanami knows he has to be careful not to strain the bones inside of his body, knowing that one bad ache can be detrimental. However, he’s eager— way too eager to have a taste. Traversing down your body, he stops himself at the hem of your shorts. One leg on the floor with the other knee pressing into the mattress of the bed, he grabs at the elastic of it and slowly drags it down. Your hips rise up from the sheets as your thighs press together before he’s flinging the two garments down to the ground. Your body was slowly getting back to what you used to recognize it for. After going through labor, your stomach had felt like it became a deflated balloon, gaining more and more stretch marks than you originally had. When you took Nanami up on his offer to help you, he encouraged you to get out of the house as much as you can. It had helped, but you were still coming to terms with the new you.

However, with every gentle touch that Nanami places on your body, it feels like nothing has changed. The way he caresses your waist, gently tugging you down to his lips. Hands pushing at the hem of your shirt and making it rise as your stomach is exposed. The gentle kiss to your left inner thigh and the soft rub to your stomach is a simple gesture that makes sparks fly. He spreads your legs slowly, but his eyes glued on yours as his hands come to travel higher up. He’s so close to you, his breath dancing over your pussy as he mumbles, moreso to himself than to you, “God, so beautiful.”

Simple gestures and simple words that give you enough validation as you say his name, Kento. Your legs tense up before relaxing, your body beginning to jitter the more he gets so transfixed with it. It’s only for the palm of his hand to stop and relax you before spreading you open even further. “Don’t get shy on me now, love. I’ll take care of you, just like you need to be.”

The first kiss to your lips is short, a simple taste test to your nectar— you’re the finest honey he’s ever tasted. Your arousal has him addicted, pressing his nose into your clit as he inhales your scent. Intoxicating and tantalizing, he finds himself getting lost in a matter of seconds. Your body shudders, making your spine arch with the way his tongue presses down into your warmth. One hand digging into your sheets while the next knots inside of his hair, pulling at the thinning strands of his scalp. However, he couldn’t care less as he finds himself impeccably lost. Your short tugs has him moaning, a sign of encouragement for you to continue those savoury sounds as his hand goes in search for the next to guide it where it belongs.

With both of your hands tangled in what used to be blond, your legs trap him inside your heat as his arms wrap around your waist. There’s an ache settling inside of his legs, but he keeps himself still as his pink tongue prods at your folds. You’re a mewling mess as your eyes are shut and basking in this bliss. Your breathing becomes heavy as you can only think of the man making you feel so good. You gnaw on your bottom lip in hopes to ground yourself as his tongue swirls against your labia, nose nuzzling into your clit as he presses the muscle deeper and deeper within you.

Wet sounds start to seep within the air as Nanami’s not caught up for breath once as you’ve got each other locked in each other’s hold. His moans are deep and from the soul, his arms tightening around your waist as he can feel it before you can. That coil deep within your body, shortly undoing and bringing you to the brink. Arousal dressing his taste buds, your juices continue to seep out as your back arches off the bed and your fingers get tighter. “K-Ken… Kento!”

“I know,” he pulls up for a first. “And I’ve got you.”

Nanami tips you over the edge, knocking you out of breath the moment he presses a finger to your clit. A high-pitched gasp leaving your mouth as you close your eyes shut and cry out in pleasure. “Kento, ohmigosh!”

You drag out a long-winded ‘oh,’ building up pride in the older man as a smirk graces his lips as he laps up your orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your upper body falls back into the sheets and your chin points to the ceiling. Your breath is ragged as you slowly fall from your high and feel the bed shuffle. A deep groan settles from off of his chest as Nanami has to take a moment to stretch out his limbs. He reaches to pull off his shirt and undo his pants, the tight-fitted boxer briefs resting on his lower half when your eyes start to flutter open once more. Chest rising and falling, you admire the chub of the man before you.

He dropped the habit of working out in his early sixties the moment he realized the amount of strain it was putting on his body. And no longer did he care for it, not bothering to wake up in the early mornings or get ready in the evenings for it. Instead, he opted in for daily walks and called it a day. But even those had become a biweekly hobby. He was no longer sharp and strong as he used to be, but the remnants of it and the roundness of his body was more comforting than ever. Eyes lingering to the bulge inside of his undergarments, you ogled at the size of it, white hairs leading down to it. Inching towards you, he brought your attention to his face. Your glossy eyes no longer transfixed on the length hiding under the elastic cloth as he inched down to you. One hand cupping your face as he breathes heavily, giving you a once over.

“My son,” he starts before clearing his throat. “My son never knew how to handle a woman like you.”

It was gradual. You didn’t know when he had managed to slip free of his underwear. “Could’ve never taken care of a woman like you.”

You didn’t know when he managed to hike your legs up over his waist, his tip kissing at your clit and making you absentmindedly shudder. “That’s why you need me.”

It isn’t until you feel the press of his cock head inching inside of your heat that you’re taken out of your trance, your mouth falling open into an ‘O’ as a whimper leaves your lips. “Only I can take care of you. Be everything my son isn’t— a man.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a meek nod, feeling the intrusion of his cock seer through you.

“Yeah?” Nanami hums, pressing deeper and deeper into you until he’s fully sheathed. His breathing staggers a bit before regaining control. “I’m the only man you need. The only man that can give you what you need, hm?”

“Yes, Kento,” you whine and whimper, feeling how he pauses to get you acclimated. “I only need you. You’re perfect for me.”

One more chaste kiss before he’s pulling out of you, the head prodding at your entrance. A thought he’s unaware he’s said out loud, And you’re perfect for me.

His length is thick and stretches open your walls, making you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt with any of your past partners. His hips don’t move with that same motion he had in his younger years. No longer languid movements, but growing rougher in age. Each thrust is calculated and hard against your pussy. His deep groans and grunts make your mind spiral and your eyes constantly flutter as each sound spills from his mouth. At some point, he comes to hold your face and does nothing else. A small and simple gesture that makes you melt into him.

Your pussy, while used, sucks him up in a tight grip that doesn’t make him want to ever leave it. He finds himself stuck at the thought of leaving the sweetness that it is, your cunt a gift to him from heavens themself. Your hands wrap around his neck, nails digging into his fragile skin and sure to bruise as your legs tense up around him, his eyes flutter shut. “Gosh, it’s like your pussy was made for me to enjoy.”

And when he brings you to orgasm, you entrap him with your legs and call for his release as well. You milk of what he’s worth, letting him empty himself out into you without any concerns of the repercussions. You let out high-pitched mewls and moans when he rolls to the other side of the bed, having to take a moment to catch his breath. However, with your body running ablaze, a heat still sparked inside of you, you tiredly move yourself to hover over his frame and catch him off guard. “Wha— What are you doing?”

“I need more of you.” The tip of his cock still leaking his seed and your pussy dripping of your intermingled cum, you press your cunt against his length. Grinding yourself against his softening length in hopes to liven him up again, you watch as he chuckles exhaustedly. “A pretty thing like you will surely lead me to my deathbed.”

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ivesambrose · 2 months ago

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Your 2025,

Happy New Year my loves 🤎

Frost & Fortune | 2025 Readings ✨

Services Offered

Client Love

Thank you for the tip 🎀

Picture 1

your central theme for this year deals with self expression, creativity, romance, children or your inner child as well as your health. You'll be refining your daily routine and approach your life with more structure and purpose instead of spontaneously doing what you want. A lot of you may have struggled with creative burn out or procrastination in the previous year but you'll be pushed out of your comfort zone when it comes to that. I see that some of you will sit down with yourself and really ask, "will a much younger and naive and vulnerable version of me truly look up to me or be happy with what I've become and who I am as a person?" In this question you'll find your answers and the changes you need to make. You might be a bit critical of yourself initially but understand that constrictive criticism towards yourself and making and effort afterwards is also a healthy thing to do. Some of you might even turn a turn a possible passion into a part of your daily life this can be getting a job that you're truly happy about it something that lets you fit in what you want to do into your daily routine efficiently. You might face situations that will test your resilience. You'll learn how to not emotionally lash out in situations. Keep your cool and decorum and navigate accordingly. You'll also learn how to pick your battles carefully. relationships will be significant focus. You'll learn who to associate with, who not to, how to show up for yourself and the significant people in your life. How to establish boundaries between you and the ones you consider acquaintances as well. Not everyone is your friend and shouldn't be. Some of you might be interacting with a lot of people possibly for career related purposes. Learn when to unwind, detach and take time solely for yourself. Don't fall into the trap of people pleasing. Certain relationships might be deepening too. Some of you might change homes or completely renovate your existing home. Some of you might be asserting your independence within your family as well. Others of you might be leaving your home/parents home and venturing off by yourselves learning how to navigate the world on your own and finding your voice. Your immediate environment will also play a prominent role in your life this year. Also expect a lot of short trips, learning and networking. Start of year: Focus on grounding yourself and building a solid foundation. It's okay to take things slow you're not running a marathon. Bring your focus on long term plans, establishing security at the same time enjoying life's pleasures.

Middle of year: Refine, work with diligence, keep a tracker or planner/journal, health(mind and body) will be primary focus.

End of year: Step into the spotlight and celebrate your growth. Look back at yourself with pride.

Picture 2

Your most transformative year yet. Central theme of destiny and finding one's soul's purpose. You'll be stepping out of your comfort zone regardless of the type of comfort it brought you and venture out into the unknown. The change will be profound and unlike anything you've experienced but it has been a long time coming. This will transform you into the person you're meant to be. Don't be scared. You have wanted this. Financial matters, inheritances, joint ventures might also play a role in your growth. Intuition will be at an all time high be sure to listen to what your instincts are telling you before being persuaded by the masses. You'll also be making a lot of meaningful connections this year. You'll finally be taking off a mask and freeing yourself from a cage you had put yourself in or felt you were in. You'll be honing your existing skills and learning new ones and will be manifesting opportunities extensively for yourself. All you need is blind faith. You'll be pushed to trust the unseen and the unknown. Put logic aside when it comes to your dreams and goals and other pursuits this year. Things will only make sense by the end of it. You'll be stepping into a more leadership role this year. People will be inspired by your confidence as well as charisma. There may even be a drastic change in your overall appearance or the way you talk and present yourself. Some of you might be moving away states or countries. It will be because it's time for you to pursue your dreams fearlessly. It's not about chasing them anymore, it's about making them a part of your reality so that it becomes normal and not something out of reach. A lot of people will be enamored by you and you might end up becoming their muse. You might also feel deeply connected to your spiritual side as well and have related experiences. Many experiences, places, people and even your dreams will inspire you immensely. Lot of deja vu moments as well. Again, trust in your gut feeling about places and people. You'll feel deeply connected to something this year, it will feel like home somehow or a part of you. This year is about finding the lost pieces of yourself and building cathedrals within your soul. You have immense power. Trust it. Start of year: A focus on building meaningful partnerships. Forging new ones too. (Professional, romantic or personal) Collaborations and commitments as well.

Middle of year: Communication, learning, trips, networking, ideas and recognition. Collecting and making a lot of memories. Lot of mental stimulation.

End of year: Significant development in your professional life, building a legacy, fame, reputation and taking note of your personal achievements.

Picture 3

Your central theme is personal growth through higher learning, expansion of ideas and unconventional approaches to life. This year is big on exploration as well as travel for you. You may have been following the norms or what's expected from you for a long time or because that was the only thing that was available to you so haven't yet gotten the chance to step out of the box but this will be changing now. This year also emphasizes focused determination and victory. All your obstacles will be overcome with sheer discipline. Remember where your awareness and focus goes, energy flows. Things will also gain momentum this year compared to the previous one so don't be surprised if things start coming through all at once after a period of stagnation. This is a good year for your creative pursuits as well as love. If you're a lover girl/lover boy, congratulations! Please romanticize your life even further actually. I feel as though you'll find someone or friends and people who are just as willing to pour into you and give as much as you do. You'll be learning to receive and nurture this year. Some of you might also be going for higher education which in itself is a huge achievement, please be proud of you and your academic achievements. You'll be very proficient in problem solving and finding clarity too. Your head will feel less like an entanglement of sizzling wires. you will be attracting individuals who balance out your energy and propell you forward as well. A lot of exchange of ideas and experiences. You may also want to build a community or become a part of one. A lot of you will be finding new hobbies as well and actually be sticking to them. Deep transformation is also unavoidable. Certain hidden aspects or information might come up but it will bring you more clarity than trauma. You will learn how to make proper financial investments or receive money from unknown or unconventional resources. You'll also feel like a version of you has died and is long gone but a new one blooms and makes sure those around you bloom as well. I feel a lot of you will make sure you turn your life into art/a cinematic experience this year no matter what. Start of year: You'll be cautious and communicative, pursuing knowledge and expanding your network. Let your voice be heard, let your ideas be known. New conversations, contracts, opportunities etc.

Middle of year: Noticeable and visible progress in every area of your life. Enjoy your journey.

End of year: A more balanced and harmonious energy, a focus on relationships as well as making yourself and your surroundings more beautiful.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #pac #pick a picture #pick a pile #2025 #2025 messages #2025 pick a cards #tarot readers #psychic readings #psychic connection #psychic community #psychic medium

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cherrysweets-world · 9 days ago

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Eyes of the Gods XI

series masterlist - part ten

Pairing: Geta x fem!Reader x Caracalla

Summary: You dream of the future of Rome

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unhealthy relationships, controlling behavior, period typical sexism, obsessive/possessive/ relationships, talk of pregnancy, historical inaccuracies, manipulative behavior, jealousy, mentions of slaves/slavery, mentions of miscarriage(not readers), past domestic abuse, unedited

Word Count: 5.5k

With Macrinus safely detained, the palace descended into uneasy silence once more. Macrinus was stubborn; he had yet to reveal what poison he had used but the healer had not been overly concerned. Other than some irritation and bruising at the back of your throat and a slightly unsettled stomach, you were miraculously fine.

It would have turned out differently if Caracalla hadn't been so quick or you had not noticed the difference in the taste of the wine. The 'what ifs' continued to flit around your mind as your hand curled around your stomach, fingers trembling.

It had taken what seemed like hours for Caracalla and Geta to fall asleep. They lay on either side of you, Caracalla's hand on your left shoulder and Geta's on your chest. Caracalla occasionally thrashed in his sleep, seemingly choked with panic , but he seemed to have settled down in the last half hour.

Before, when it had been just your life in danger, you had not felt quite so torn. You had even proven that you were able to somewhat defend yourself. And whilst the ferocity of the emperors was an issue for most, you had found yourself benefitting from it, becoming complacent.

That was not what you wanted for any child of yours. To have to constantly be alert, ready for some kind of attack. The worst being the one you couldn't even see, like poison.

Your thumb idly brushed over your stomach. It was too early to tell whether you were with child and then, of course, there was the poison to consider. Women lost children all the time, even without outside interference. The inner workings of your womb were a mystery to you.

Your throat throbbed. In your mind you saw a child, red-haired and giggly, and already you knew you would do anything to protect them. Anything.

The air was still and tranquil. You lifted your hand from your stomach and wrapped your fingers around Caracalla's warm hand, lifting it to your mouth a pressing a soft kiss against it. You did the same for Geta before slowly easing out of their arms and shuffling to the edge of the bed.

Your feet were cold against the floor. If they wake up, you told yourself, I shall take it as a sign and think of this no more.

Seconds passed, then minutes. The emperors did not stir.

Serenity overcame you as you accepted the actions you would take next. You could not stay, waiting to find out whether you were with child, only for that child to later come to harm. That would destroy you. Not for the first time, you wondered what kind of man your father had been to raise a hand to his only daughter.

Still, a part of you hoped the emperors would wake and demand that you get back into bed, even as you padded across the room and eased open the door to face the Praetorians.

There were only four stationed outside the door. Many had been sent to guard Macrinus, as though he might manage some miraculous escape, and there were more stationed at all entrances to the palace.

"I am going to visit the healer," you lied smoothly, easily. "I only need one of you to accompany me."

The halls were still and bathed in moonlight as you got further and further away from the emperors'. You had taken advantage of the Praetorians and the fact they would not question you. You forced yourself to set aside your rapidly building guilt.

You had no real plan. Instead you were relying on guidance from the fates. If your attempt was unsuccessful, then that simply meant your destiny was here, with the emperors. If you were successful. . .

As you approached the infirmary, you saw a female slave pause at the entrance, glancing over at you before dipping inside. The beginning of an idea began to take root inside as you got closer and closer, the potent smell of remedies and tonics swirling around your head.

You stopped at the door of the infirmary, glancing back over at the Praetorian. "I would prefer to visit alone."

The man looked uneasy but ultimately agreed. He opened the door for you and you cringed at the noise it made before slipping inside, pressing your palms against it so that it would not make a sound.

The room consisted of two main chambers; the entry way and then the infirmary itself. You could hear the groans of the sick and the low tone of the healer as he talked with someone - probably the woman from before.

You had been here only once before but if your memory was correct, you could find what you were looking for in the set of draws closest to you. You painstakingly pulled the draw open, anxiously glancing over your shoulder for any sign of more guards or the healer.

The draw was full of tunics, just like the ones you had worn before. These ones were perhaps a bit rattier from frequent washes but that was even better. Silently you pulled one out, dropping it on top of the draws before yanking off your own clothing, followed by the jewels the emperors had given you. You left a single bejeweled pin in your hair, tucking it as deep as you could and arranging your hair around it.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, your mind insisted. You did not care. You needed to get away, to be alone with your thoughts. Your mind was a jumbled mess that you had no hope of untangling without the aid of time.

You folded the clothing around the jewelry, giving the cuffs one last mournful stare, before gently placing them in the draw and pushing it shut. There was no telling how much time you had left and getting caught at this point would mean you would have a lot more to explain.

In the other room, you could hear the woman and healer moving about. Heart-pounding, you tugged on the tunic and smoothed it out before attending to your hair. The woman had been of similar build to you, her hair a similar shade, and you arranged yours to mimic hers.

Before it was too late, you went to the door and pulled it open. There was a chance the healer might get curious and come to see who was there so you let it fall shut quickly and did not look at the guard. He was stood with his back to the door, spear at his side. You scanned his side profile once, searching for suspicion, before turning your back to him and beginning to quietly tread away.

It was a pain to make sure you did not turn back or walk too quickly, lest you look suspicious. You kept expecting to hear the shout of the Praetorian, or the questioning tone of the healer. Neither of these things happened. If you had not been so preoccupied with trying to breath steadily, you would have been speechless at your fortune.

Naturally, you headed for the kitchens. That might have been the worst place to go before but now there was no-one there to recognise you. You entered the stairway, finally allowing yourself to descend into a swift pace. It was not inherently suspicious; in fact, it made it more likely that anyone who saw you would leave you alone, assuming you had been sent on some errand by an impatient master.

You paused only once to glance around the room where you had spent so many years of your life. The kitchen was not completely empty but the men at the stove hardly spared you a glance, too busy spooning soup into their mouths.

The kitchen had provided security, food and warmth to you on many an occasion. You could smell the day's food lingering in the warm air. It was also potentially the first place the emperors would come looking for you, so with once last look, you pried your fingers from the entrance and dove deeper into the slaves' quarters, heading for the exit.

Far too late to turn back now.

As expected, there were more Praetorians stationed at the exit. Your hands began to sweat as you approached them. It was impossible to predict whether one of them would notice you, even without the luxurious clothing and jewellery.

You came to a stop in front of the guard who stood directly in your way, leering down at you with hard eyes. He searched you for the mark of a slave but did not find one.

"Where are you going?" he asked, breath wafting down into your face.

"An errand for the healer," you swallowed, the motion painful.

"At this hour?"

"He said it could not wait."

The other guards were beginning to turn around, curious. If one of them recognised you it would be over. You could not even begin to imagine the type of punishment you might face.

Finally the guard grunted, moving aside to let you pass. You tried not to allow your relief to show on your face. Instead you nodded your thanks, lowering your head once more before passing by all the guards without a peep. It felt as though you were passing through a pack of dogs who may catch your scent and alert their owners at any moment.

Sweat beaded along your brow and you swiped at it as inconspicuously as possible. Each step felt like a mile but you did not stop, not even as you began to feel the palace at your back, looming over you. Your eyes began to sting and still you did not stop, the night enveloping you like the old friend it had once been.

You walked on, and on, and on.

The stench of the cells was almost indescribable. Piss, blood and fear. Geta breathed in the latter, let it settle in his chest, reminded himself of whose fear it was. Reminded himself that he was the one in charge.

The Praetorians stopped outside a specific cell, flanking him on either side. Macrinus was sat at the very back, spine pressed against the wall and chin held high. His skin looked sallow already from a single night, dark eyes peering out at him with pure hate.

Perhaps that would have disturbed Geta before. This was, after all, the same man who had pandered to him and fawned over his brother for several months now. How had he been so blind? How long would it have been before Macrinus plunged a knife into his back?

Somehow, none of that felt like it mattered anymore.

Geta leaned forward until his chest brushed against the grimy bars. "You have one chance to answer, master of lies."

Macrinus laughed loudly, smugly. "What poison did I use on your lady love?"

"Where is she?"

Macrinus paused, smile twitching on his lips before they pulled back into a fully-fledged grin. He clapped his hands together, letting out a bark of laughter. "She is gone? Truly? Well, I hope you don't mind my saying so, but I do wish she had chosen to go a day or two earlier. Might have saved me from all this trouble.”

Geta slammed his palms against the bars, the sound ringing throughout the dimly lit room. He observed Macrinus a moment longer before turning to the Praetorians. As much as Geta wanted to torture Macrinus himself, he had other priorities.

"See to him," he spat, "make sure he understands that this is not a laughing matter."

Geta was almost at the foot of the stairs by the time the yelling started. He lingered for a second, waiting for satisfaction to hit, but it did not. Instead his chest felt tight, uncomfortable.

Torturing Macrinus did not bring you back.

Part of him had known Macrinus had no direct hand in your leaving. Geta recalled your shiny, panicked eyes, the wobbly smile you had given him before going to bed. Fear of Macrinus, of others like him, had driven you to do something incredibly reckless.

It was something Geta almost understood - almost. Mostly he was angry and shaken by your absence. Understanding could come after you were returned to his side. For now there was only panic and the faint realization that somehow, at some point, he was going to have to tell his brother.

You spent the rest of the night curled up in the streets, as close to a fire as you dared get without drawing too much attention to yourself. When the sun rose you rose with it, stretching your arms above your head and brushing the dirt from the creases of your tunic.

There was nowhere to go, no-one to see. Aimless, you began to walk. If you stayed in one place too long you were certain the Praetorians would soon stumble upon you. You dragged your feet, kicking up tiny dust clouds as you trod on.

You supposed that eventually you would have to find employment elsewhere. The single pin you had kept would get you a bed for a couple nights as well as a few necessities. It was worth more than that, no doubt, but you would have to downplay it's value in order to avoid suspicion about how you had acquired such a thing.

Your hand drifted up to your hair, brushing against the pin you had buried in it. It would be hard to give it up and you were not ready. You swallowed thickly, barely noticing your own thirst, and continued on.

You stuck to side streets, avoiding the markets and stalls. The Praetorians arrived sooner than you had assumed. At first you were not sure whether they had been sent to look for you but when you saw them stopping merchants and children, grilling them with questions, you knew you had to be more careful.

Every corner you turned there was more of them. You squatted to press your hands into the rough surface of the street, running them over your tunic and eventually your face. Tiny stones stung as they rubbed against your palms but it felt necessary. It was likely they were looking for some fresh faced, well-dressed young woman rather than some rumpled slave.

Hopelessly, you drifted through the side-streets until deciding that it was maybe better to hide in plain sight. You rambled through the marketplace, keeping your body angled firmly away from any passing guards, pretending to examine the merchandise. You got more than a few dirty looks from merchants who probably assumed you were planning on stealing. You made sure to keep your hands in plain sight at all times, lest anyone kick up a fuss.

As the morning trickled by and made way for the afternoon, it became difficult to ignore the hunger brewing in your stomach and the thirst that was beginning to turn your tongue into an immovable object. Several times you thought about stopping, about trading your pin away, but the thought of drinking some untested wine or posca made you sick.

You had not expected this new aversion to liquid and it only served to make your life more difficult. Every time your throat itched with thirst you remembered Caracalla kneeling in front of you, forcing you to empty the contents of your stomach.

I could drink if they were here, you thought, leaning against the side of a building. There would be no need to worry then, because they would not allow any harm to come to you.

With a sigh, you pushed off of the building. You could hear the sound of playing children ahead and followed it, curious. A long time had passed since you had played in the street with your friends as a child. Even then it wasn't something you had been allowed to do often, thanks to your father.

You thought again of the child you might be carrying. What kind of life would they live? Out here, with you, there would be poverty but also joy. You would not be the type of parent your father had been. You imagined yourself as your mother, gentle, reassuring. You missed her now more than ever and mourned over the loss of any advice she may have been able to give.

Your own situation was vastly different to hers but a mother's input could be a valuable thing. You could not imagine how she had lived all those months when you were still small, still fragile. How she had protected you from your fathers quick temper, you did not know.

You imagined your own child and whom they might resemble. Already you felt fiercely protective over a being that may not even exist. A pang of guilt stabbed at your chest as you thought about Geta and Caracalla, distracting yourself with thoughts of what kind of fathers they may have been.

You rounded a corner and almost collided with a running child. Their speed almost took the pair of you to the ground but you managed to steady yourself, the beginning of a smile playing on your lips.

"Sorry!" the child said, offering you an apologetic grin before speeding off.

You watched as he darted about with his friends, playing some game that you had not seen since your own youth. You settled back against a wall and watched, amused.

Palatine Hill was calling you. The emperors were calling you. There was an ache in your bones that was not caused by an ailment that could be cured with medicine.

How had you come to yearn for the two people who you had once feared? You thought back to that day in the kitchens, the way you would have done anything to avoid their attention. Now their eyes were no longer on you and you felt their absence more keenly that anticipated.

The palace had always been a home of sorts. It had kept you fed, clean, clothed. All of that felt like nothing compared to the way you had felt beside the emperors or between them in bed. Fear had given way to something that was, in some ways, scarier.

It was not just fright for your potential child that had made you walk from their room earlier. Only now could you admit it, admit that your own blossoming feelings had sent you reeling and running scared.

How could they not? If you were to admit to how you felt, things would change. You would have to acknowledge that, despite the way they treated those around you, despite the terror they brought upon the citizens of Rome, Caracalla and Geta had clawed their way into your heart so viciously that you were not certain you could remove them without causing yourself physical pain.

"I am a fool," you whispered to yourself, "a selfish fool. Minerva, grant me your wisdom. I need it now, more than before.”

Once again your eyes were drawn to the children. Your hand settled on your stomach again as your mind clouded with thoughts of the emperors.

Geta had said your child would be heir, future emperor or empress of Rome. Maybe it was naive to believe him, but you did.

Geta and Caracalla could be cruel, vicious, despite the tiny changes they had made in the last few months. But your child would not only have them - they would have you.

You knew yourself to be kind, compassionate, empathetic almost to your own detriment. What would Rome be like if she had a ruler with these qualities as well as the necessary strength and decisiveness? A ruler who did not have to fear for their life because they were beloved by their people?

Your mind began to race with hope as you gnawed on your bottom lip. You struggled with trusting your own choices, but something about this felt right.

For once you saw Rome for what she could be, rather than the harsh reality of what she was. You saw yourself with the emperors, safe and content, belly swollen with the future of Rome. Your closed your eyes, let the image sink in. There were countless risks but the rewards were plenty. Not just for you but for Caracalla and Geta. For the people of Rome.

All you had to do was believe that they would protect you and your child. And had they not done that thus far?

You loved Rome for what she was, despite her flaws. You loved your emperors in the same way.

With a shaky breath, you turned and began to make your way back to Palatine Hill. There was no way of telling what reception you would get but you felt certain that you must face it regardless.

Caracalla was disturbingly quiet.

After an hour had passed and there had still been no sign of you, Geta finally told him. Your clothes and jewelry had been discovered not long after and Caracalla sat with them now, fingers opening and closing around the fabric.

Geta had had them brought to Caracalla's rooms where they could discuss you privately. The tale of your escape was slowly unwinding. Your disguise, your lies. Geta had briefly felt mildly impressed; that was, until his focus turned onto ways to make sure you would never be able to do such a thing ever again.

"Macrinus has killed her," Caracalla rasped, "he poisoned her -"

"No, brother," Geta knelt in front of Caracalla, allowing his own fingers to brush your stola. "It was her own terror that made her flee - but she is still here, in the city. She will be back."

Caracalla rocked back and forth, mouth working furiously as his hands tightened into fists. Geta got to his feet, recognising the signs of an outburst waiting to happen. Geta also wanted to shout and scream - he could not resent his brother for doing so.

When he had awoken in the early hours of the morning he had, at first, been so deliriously happy it made his head spin. He had you by his side and Macrinus in a cell. Then he had felt the space between him and his brother, felt how cold it was, and had felt sick to his stomach.

It had taken five minutes to locate the Praetorian who had gone with you to the infirmary. Like the fool he was, he had still been waiting for you despite nearly three hours having passed. Much confusion had followed and it had taken several more hours to uncover the details of your escape. By that time you could have been miles away - but still in the city. Geta was certain you were still in the city.

The idea that you weren't made his breath short and his palms sweaty so he refused to think about it.

Caracalla shot to his feet, your stola a limp ball of fabric in his fists. "We must execute those who were stupid enough to allow her to slip away - start with that Praetorian! Start executing people and she will certainly return!"

Geta wanted to do just that. He ran his tongue over his pale lips, deep in thought. If there was someway to guarantee you would return, Geta would execute a hundred Praetorians without a second thought.

"There are Praetorians in the city now. I am certain they will return her to us, brother," Geta gripped his brother's forearms and shook him. "The gods will see her safely returned."

Indeed, the man would be dealt with, but Geta had decided on sending him out to look for you instead. His own desperation to keep his life would ensure he did a thorough job.

Caracalla slumped foreword, resting his forehead on Geta's shoulder. "How could she do this? I thought - I thought -"

Geta ran his fingers through Caracalla's hair in what he hoped was a soothing motion. "It has already been done, we need not dwell on it now. If - when - she returns, we will deal with it then."

Macrinus would pay for his part in all of it. His part and more. That was certain.

Geta’s lack of anger towards you had taken him by surprise. All he felt was a frantic desperation to see you, to have you tucked safely at his side. Consequences be damned - you had to be here to face the consequences and you were still nowhere in sight. The afternoon was passing by and you were still not here.

Caracalla let his head fall back, blazing eyes darting around Geta's face. "She will never leave this place again."

Geta laughed, near-hysterical.

“Never,” he agreed, “never.”

A group of Praetorians spotted you once you were within two miles of the palace. You recognised Consus and he, in turn, must have recognised you.

The surrounded you on either side, boxing you in as you walked the rest of the way to the palace. There was a sense of relief in the air but no-one was entirely relaxed. The reaction of the emperors was on the forefront of everyone's mind, you were sure.

You may be punished. You accepted this with your chin held high. Still, you would do your best to explain your feelings and motivations, however rash they seemed. Stomach churning, you marched on and tried to ignore the wobble in your knees.

Maybe you were being entirely too hopeful in thinking they wouldn't physically harm you. No matter how hard you tried to imagine it, you could not see either of them raising a hand with the intent to hurt you. If that was to be your fate, well, then you would deal with it.

For the first time since it had all began, you felt a sense of control. You had chosen to go back. You had been able to see beyond the emperors and get a sense of your own feelings without being distracted by wandering hands and sharp eyes.

The palace winked at you in the setting sun. There was no feeling of impending doom or terror. You felt resolute, ready for whatever may happen after you entered that building.

There had been no plan, no thought out plot to deceive. Only a sense that you had to get away, like a trapped animal gnawing off it's own limb. Your mind had been well and truly clouded. By the attempts on your life, thoughts of an heir, the emperors.

Now you felt as though your mind had had a chance to clear some of the debris from the last few weeks and it had left you wanting. Wanting them.

The Praetorians became tense as you entered the palace. The entire place was on edge, as though it was seconds away from coming apart. It was hard to believe this was your doing. You would address that gnawing feeling of guilt later, after you had righted your wrong.

The Praetorians did not stop. They urged you on, closing in tighter around you as though you might slip away. Their nerves were affecting your own. You ran your tongue over your bottom lip, internally cringing at the dryness you felt. To have your confidence slip from you now would not do.

They took you to a place you had not been before. It was similar to other parts of the palace but you did not recognise it. You stopped at the door, pressing your hand against the intricate carvings and letting the edges bite into your palm. Hesitant, you glanced at the Praetorians.

They shuffled even closer. Leaving again was not a possibility, even if you wanted to. Despite their tough demeanor you could see the pleading in their eyes. You nodded, partially to yourself, and pushed open the door.

The room was an office, smaller and more formal than the one in the emperors' chambers. The desk sat on a slightly raised platform and was decorated with objects, many of which you had never seen before. The most interesting was a globe, golden and polished in the sun that was streaming into the room from the huge window behind the desk.

Geta stood there, alone.

His back was to you but you knew he was aware of you. You could see it in the hunch of his shoulders, the way his thumb was rapidly swiping back and forth over the cup he was holding. You swallowed and it was audible in the still room.

Finally, Geta turned to face you. His face was white with layers of make-up, already dark eyes smeared with kohl. The colour contrasted with the red of his eyes. This was how you had always pictured him, before you had ever gotten close enough to see what was beneath.

"Explain."

You wove your fingers together and tried not to make it look like the nervous gesture that it was. His lips were pale, bloodless, and you levelled your eyes on them as you began to speak.

"I had never considered what it is, what it really is, to be emperor," you admitted. "Not until that man tried to kill me and even then - I thought only of myself and why it was happening to me."

Geta was listening intently. You took it as a sign to continue.

"Then, there was the mention of an heir, and I became aware of the fact that I would have to guard more than just my own life," you blinked hard, letting the words spill out. "I thought I could live with people wanting to kill me - but people wanting to kill my child -"

Geta set his cup down. "You were worried for the life of our child? A child that we cannot even be sure you are carrying?"

"Not just that," you raised your hands, "but you and Caracalla! I am aware that there have been attempts on your lives before but it seemed that my presence was spurring these people on. If they could get to me, they may have been able to get to you!"

Geta pressed a hand to his forehead and began to laugh bitterly. "You have no idea the pain you have caused today, and to say that you did it because of us? It is difficult to believe."

"It is the truth," you said stiffly. "I left because I - I love you. I came back for the same reason."

The words sat heavy in the room. Instantly you wanted to take them back, scoop them up and swallow them and let them marinate inside you a while longer. They felt too fresh, too raw, and you wanted to protect them for just a bit longer. You kept your eyes trained on the floor, mortified at your own forthcomingness.

The sound of draws opening and closing piqued your interest but you could not bring yourself to look up. Only when Geta's feet appeared in your eyeline did you dare to life your eyes from the floor.

He held out his hands and you gasped. In each one was a perfectly carved child, petite and mischievous. You recognised them immediately. Romulus and Remus.

"I had these made," Geta said quietly, "after I saw that old carving you have been carrying around all these years. It was a wolf, was it not? I thought you might appreciate these additions."

You could hardly speak. That day felt so long ago now but you remembered the way your wolf had clattered to the floor, the way Geta had snatched it up and examined it with curious eyes. You had been embarrassed to see him handle your tattered old toy.

You reached out to touch them but Geta pulled back, nostrils flaring. "If you accept them now, you cannot take it back. They will be yours and you - you must not abandon them. Ever. No matter how good you believe your reasoning to be."

Your lashes fluttered against your cheek. "I would never."

You held out your hands and let Geta place the children into them. He closed his fingers over yours and squeezed tight until the pain was almost too much. You did not pull away.

He pulled you close until your chest was pressed against his. "You have been unimaginably reckless and there will be consequences."

You did not have it in you to be scared anymore. "I understand."

"Those will come later," he said, staring down at you. "You love me?"

"I do," you breathed.

Geta brushed his nose against yours. "I shall have you say it a thousand times. As punishment."

"I shall take this punishment without complaint," you offered a tentative smile.

"As you should," Geta pinched your waist. "I love you. There, it is not such a difficult task."

You pulled away, clutching the carvings to your chest. You could practically feel your eyes shining. Geta's eyebrows scrunched together as he observed your disheveled appearance. He poured you a cup of wine and you drank it gladly, hardly even pausing to consider the danger.

"Drink it all," he instructed, "and then you must see my brother."

Authors Note - hint: he wasn’t just talking about the carvings.

For those who think Reader got off lightly - it’s not over yet. Rough makeup sex anyone? And she is also about to have guards practically wedged up her ass and will never spend a moment alone again ever ever ever

Geta is also just happy that Reader came back - especially since she did it by her own choice. This might build trust for normal people but he’s content to just make sure it neverrrr happens again

Please reblog, comment, like, etc! I struggled with this chapter and support is what truly motivates me ♥️

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#eyes of the gods #fred hechinger #emperor caracalla #emperor caracalla x reader #emperor geta x reader #joseph quinn #emperor geta x reader x emperor caracalla #caracalla x reader x geta #caracalla x reader #geta x reader

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wheneclipsefalls · 1 month ago

Note

heyy i love ur works sm, could u possibly write a fic like the one you wrote about Lo’ak in Unmoveable, but with Neteyam as the alpha and the reader as the bratty/dominant omega. (Preferably fem reader) Tysm!!

Pairing: Adult Alpha Neteyam x Olangi Princess Omega Reader

Summary: Princess or not, a spoiled brat like you needs to be put in her place. And since you have been given over to him now, Neteyam is more than ready to put that attitude in check.

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, explicit MDNI, aged up Neteyam, omegaverse, dom/sub dynamics. power imbalance, very talkative Neteyam, breast play, nipple clamps, anal, punishment, kidnapping/arranged marriage, swearing, etc.

A/N: Hi anon...you probably thought I was never going to fufill this request😆😅 Hopefully you are still online to see this

Adult Neteyam pic by Cinetrix

Unmovable for reference

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting.” You reply simply, folding your legs upon where you are perched on a nearby boulder.

“Is that so?” One of Neteyam’s hairless brows curves upwards into an unusual expression as he places his hands on his hips. You shrug it off as morphed social skills he has picked up, a consequence of living with Sky People. You don’t let it ruffle your feathers.

“Yes. Soon you will have left and I will finally have some peace before my clan comes to get me.” You supply the information with a tilted chin and confidence oozing from every pore even as the towering alpha closes in on your space.

“Your clan has given you to me, princess.”

You refuse to meet the gaze that somehow manages to penetrate your defenses with a heated fire, contrary to his poised posture that emanates a relaxed grace.

“An oversight on their part.” Your fingers interlock together and place on your lap. If he wants to put on a tough bravado why shouldn’t you? “Once they come to realize their mistake they will come to retrieve me. Until then, I wait.”

However, waiting here may take more patience than you care to admit. The Olangi clan are known for their expertise as pa’li [direhorse] riders but even they may require a day or so to catch up to the point where Toruk Makto’s son has dragged you to. It's the furthest you have ever been from home. Consequently the first time you have seen the beautiful rolling grounds of the plains slowly transform into congested forest.

You can only see a portion of the sky with these interlocking trees in the way. It pushes in on you like the bars of your enclosure, yet another representation of how trapped you have become in Neteyam’s grip.

“I’m waiting too, paskalin [honey].” You shuffle slightly when he comes to sit beside you. The rich essence of his scent wraps around you in a vice-like grip. It has your inner omega running restless but you maintain a serene exterior. It wouldn’t be the first time an alpha has tried to rope you into submission with drifting pheromones. “In fact, we all are waiting.’ He gestures to the handful of Omatikaya warriors that have made the journey with him. They pretend to busy themselves with loading up pa’li that are already prepared. “Waiting for you to stop this tantrum of yours.”

“Tantrum?” The word feels foreign on your tongue.

“It means a child throwing a fit when they do not get their way.”

“I am not a child!” You seethe, lips peeling back to reveal your pointed fangs. “I am a princess and-”

“And I am a prince.” Neteyam shrugs, cutting you off. “Yet neither of those titles mean anything out here.”

You scoff, allowing your hair to act as a protective curtain from his searing attention. A prince. What a laughable thought. A true prince does not drag a female away from her home with bound wrists and promises of mating. He has no right to call himself such a thing.

Then again, your father calls himself Olo’eyktan yet he was the one that handed you over to the alpha. All for the promise of protection against the RDA. The Omatikaya could have asked for anything to seal the alliance between your two clans in battle but all that Neteyam had come to collect was you.

Your father’s decision, however, could be forgiven in your eyes. He was doing what he thought was best for the people. His greatest error was believing Neteyam would be a suitable mate for you, for thinking that any alpha would be a good match for you after all that you’ve expressed against such a union. You are a free spirit. Despite your presentation as an omega you were never meant to live in an alpha’s shadows.

“Look at me.” His voice is soft but firm. Another scoff of refusal is traveling up your throat but this time Neteyam doesn’t wait for you to follow his command. He captures your chin and forces you to turn and feel the weight of presence. It feels as if his alpha pheromones not only bleed into the space between you but also cinch around your throat like a claws. “I am your alpha now, your mate. That is the only title you should be focused on.”

Neteyam is a strange alpha, that you have come to quickly realize. Where other alphas often raise their voices in demand for respect and submission he delivers his commands in the form of smooth purrs traveling down your spine. He uses force when necessary but never done rashly or out of anger, simply a tool to get you back to where he deems you should be. Among the other males there is no passive aggressive commentary or puffing of chests to remind them of rank.

Instead he converses with them as old friends do. He leads the group in every sense of the word but it’s done with almost a playful hand as they laugh and make jokes with one another. And yet, after all of this backwards messaging, there is an air of dominance that laces his every move. He walks and talks with a relaxed expression as if he knows there is no need to prove himself. His supremacy is something that would not dare to be questioned.

And somehow that comes off as higher snobbery than any other foolish alpha you’ve seen wrestle for your hand.

“I don’t have an alpha. Nor will I ever.” With a tug your face is whipped from his hold. You manage to conceal the rush of heat to your cheeks by smoothly shifting your hair and facing away from him once more. “I suggest you accept that fact and stop wasting both of our time.”

Not a single bat of your eyes in his direction as you stare confidently ahead at the strange tree in front of you and wait to hear the party’s retreat. Instead your ears only catch the sound of a small sigh and shuffle before Neteyam is standing before you.

“Come now, princess. It’s been fun but we still have ground to cover.” He reaches his hand out to help you up but you only gamble casting a glance at it from your peripheral vision. As far as you are concerned, Neteyam does not exist in your world. And so you treat him as such.

“Neteyam!” A voice bellows across the distance. “We are losing daylight, brother. Are we set to travel?”

Neteyam doesn’t hesitate to send the other male a small smile before saying, “She is coming along now.”

“No I am not.” Your instant response is tainted with a gasp of offense. How dare he speak for you! “I am not moving from this rock until my clan comes to get me.” You insist, slapping his hand away.

Neteyam remains unperturbed, simply giving a shrug before murmuring, “Have it your way then.”

You aren’t afforded a second for a sense of victory to settle in before the prince is tossing you over his shoulder. Strongs arms wrap around the back of your thighs to keep you pinned there and decrease the range of motion for kicking. It doesn’t stop the gasp of outrage and pure spite that emanates from you. Limbs swinging in every which direction to deliver damage, you quickly resent the way his strength greatly overpowers your own.

“I am not some fresh kill for you to carry home. Set me down right this instant!”

“I gave you the chance to walk over with dignity, princess. What else am I supposed to do?” He tries to retort but you can detect the grin in his voice. Even more humiliating, from your upside down position you are still able to spot the other males squirming to not laugh at your compromising position.

“You are a mongrel of a man!”

The scratchy venom of your tone is morphed into a surprised squeak when you are let back onto your feet. Regardless, you remain trapped in Neteyam’s arms as you are wedged between him and a pa’li.

“Don’t waste your energy, tiyawn [love]. It will be at least a few more days before we reach Omatikaya soil.”

They are surrounding you from every side. The five other males may wear amused expressions and appear to be enraptured in conversations with one another but you are no fool. These men are under Neteyam’s jurisdiction. At the first sign of trouble they will be snapping into action. Running now will only get you dragged back and fighting against Neteyam’s hold may get you flung into a humiliating position again.

“At least let me have my own pa’li. I know how to ride.”

Neteyam's chest heaves with the responding laugh that awakens within him. White pearly teeth on display, his amusement rises higher. Several of the others try and fail to not join in. It heightens your blood pressure until your face is hot to the touch.

“That’s a very good try, princess.” He beams, patting your hip.

Neteyam unfortunately is not the fool you hope for him to be. Nor the arrogant alpha that would make the mistake of believing himself capable of catching you once you’ve set off on a pa’li. You’ve been riding since you were barely able to walk. The Omatikaya may understand the concept, but they hold not near the same precision and skill that your years of training have granted you.

It’s a fact he seems acutely aware of because he doesn’t let you saddle up first. All it would take is a few seconds for you to make the bond and leave them in the dust. Instead, he hands you off to another male as he settles himself upon the creature and only after he has made the bond himself does he have you lifted to sit in front of him.

By the time you settle around a fire for dinner and begin setting up camp, you can feel your eye on the verge of twitching. This journey has been nothing but painful and slow. So exceedingly slow. Although every step is one step further from your home that doesn’t erase the annoyance you feel at their painstaking pace. The only thing that stops you from snapping at them to hurry up is the hope that this extra time will help you come up with some sort of escape plan.

It’s clear that your father’s remorse is far too sluggish for you to solely rely on at this rate, so it seems it is once again up to you to meet them halfway.

However hatching up plans is exceedingly difficult when you have an alpha sculpted against your back, his essence clouding your mind and his eyes constantly peeking down at you as if he knows every thought swirling in your head. Try as you might, there is no reasonable way to veer away from his touch while riding the pa’li, at least not one that keeps you from developing excruciating back pain.

Trying to set your inner turmoil aside, you focus on using this time away from the Omatikaya prince to properly set your head right. However, it seems Neteyam has different plans as he settles to lounge by the fire. He thanks one of the other males for a drink he is handed before his attention lands on you.

“Come sit, princess.” He pats the spot beside him. There may be a warm smile to accompany his words but you know that it is nothing short of a command. The steely undertone of an alpha’s call reverberates in his tone.

It locks your spine into a ramrod straight position and your tail already tries to tuck itself the longer you wait to obey. It’s irrelevant, however. You’ve become quite adept at pushing down your omega instincts in favor of following your own logic instead.

With a smooth stroll and a feigned innocence to your smile, you maintain eye contact while making a show of sitting next to a different male across the fire. He’s a beta and your proximity immediately has him twitching.

Neteyam’s golden eyes take on a darker hue, but he remains where he is. You’ve challenged his authority, in front of his men no less, but somehow you escape the night unscathed from his rath. Or so you think.

It’s hard to say whether these sleeping arrangements are usual for the Omatikaya or rather just a setup meant for traveling. Either way, it is the most bizarre thing to sleep in a roll of fabric high up in the trees. Netyam claims it’s safer to stay off the ground during eclipse in the forest. A silly point truly when it’s just as dangerous, if not more likely, to turn over in your sleep and fall to your death.

Climbing up to the hammock is all the more painful and terrifying than riding with Neteyam. He patiently trails behind, waiting and giving unwanted direction for your climb until you have finally cocooned yourself in the fabric. Still trembling but refusing to voice any complaints that could be mocked, you take a moment to catch your breath.

That moment is exceedingly short.

The hammock suddenly swings and you look up to find the prince lowering himself down carefully from a branch above.

“No no, absolutely not. This is my bed. Get out.” He chuckles as you try to push and swat at his muscular thighs but it’s no use when he is settled in the fabric a few seconds later.

“Technically it is our bed.”

“Then I will take my chances on the ground.” Your stomach somersaults at the thought of enduring the climb down.

Comment ignored, Neteyam coaxes you to lay down before slipping himself behind you. You’re tempted to kick when he wraps an arm around your waist but the hammock is still swinging to a point of nausea. Best not to make it any worse.

“You’re trembling, omega.” It’s murmured against the shell of your ear. There is no need to look down in order to confirm his assertion. How do the Omatikaya sleep peacefully up in the trees like this? You’ve never considered yourself to have a fear of heights but today has you questioning that assurance all together.

“You look like you need someone to calm you down.” The palm of his right hand runs up and down the length of your arm, as if the transferring heat there would diminish your shivering.

“What I need is a break from your pestering.”

“I already gave you one.” His tale tickles at the back of your knee just as his accented voice deepens. “A break that I have still not received a thank you for.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting, my prince.” You sneer. It wasn’t his decision to have you sit away from him during dinner. It was entirely your own and he is not about to receive acknowledgment as if he had any control over what you do.

“I hope you know what you’re playing at, princess.”

Those are the last words he speaks of the night and consequently the same ones that leave you restless and twitching. Sleeping like this is impossible. When you’re not worried about falling to your death you become acutely aware of every point of contact between you and Neteyam. His toned chest is like a bustling fire against your back. His tail at some point wraps around knee as if it belongs there. Even his silky ebony braids tickle at your neck, almost as bad as where his face tucks itself behind your ear.

There is no forgetting who lays behind you. Sleep seems to never come because you are constantly trying to calm your raging heart and control the pheromones that threaten to slip into the air. That would wake him up far too easily.

His breath is heavy, heartbeat consistent and strong from where it pounds against your back. You’ve been sure for a while now that he is fast asleep. Now is the time to make your move, but frozen you remain. Eventually you look down to find that your fingers have begun tracing the veins of his forearm as an anxious tick.

Thank Eywa he seems to not wake up from the touch. Or perhaps it is the smooth caress that has coaxed him further into sleep. Either way, you hold very little hope of not only climbing down the trees without splitting your pretty head open but also doing so unnoticed.

Sleep comes and goes along with the hours until waiting has wound you taunt. It is only a matter of time before the sun rises again and you’ve lost the window of opportunity. So with sweaty hands and a heart threatening to come up your throat, you cautiously slide yourself out from his hold.

By some miracle it turns out that Neteyam is the deepest sleeper you have ever met, because even as the hammock sways from your climbing out, he simply lets out a sigh and turns his head further into the fabric.

Scaling down the tree is a test in vigilance and patience. Every smooth breath you force yourself to take is a practice in these arts. Stubbornly you refuse to look down, knowing it will only bring forth nerve ridden mistakes. So with the pace of a snail you inch further and further down the trunk.

You just need to make it to a pa’li.

That’s it.

So close. So very close, you tell yourself, even as you know it’s a lie.

“What are you doing?”

Your breath catches in your throat, thighs tensing as you remember to still keep hold. Your muscles relax slightly, however, when you notice that the voice holds an Omatikaya accent but it is not Neteyam’s. The beta from dinner sits up in his hammock, eyes squinting at you through the darkness. Say the wrong thing and he is bound to sound the alarm.

“You should not be out of bed.” He sighs.

“I must relieve myself.” Biting your bottom lip you steer your features into confident defiance. “Or am I not allowed to do that too?”

The beta lets out a sigh and a curse you do not recognize. It must be part of the Sky People’s weird language.

“Alright, I will assist you just wait for a moment.”

“I don’t require an audience.”

“But you do require supervision.”

It’s difficult to argue when you remain clinging to a tree for dear life. So when the beta helps you make it down the tree foothold by foothold, there is nothing left in you to protest. Instead, you simply shift gears.

“Be quick.” The male says, gesturing to a secluded spot behind thick bushes.

“It takes as long as it takes.” Head held high, you walk past him and into the bushes. Luckily the sounds of nocturnal creatures are loud enough to excuse why you are so silent in the bushes. Furthermore, it’s clear that male has at least some respect for your privacy as a woman when he doesn’t question again what takes you so long.

Those advantages aside, running now would still do you no good. He has steered the two of you further away from the pa’li and running on foot will only get you lost in this entanglement of greenery. And with a beta, one native to the area nonetheless, there is no chance of getting far.

Lucky for you, there is always one sure fire way to disable a man without violence.

“What did you say your name is again?”

The beta straightens when you walk past him.

“Um, I didn’t.” He picks up into a jog to catch up with your sudden retreat. Not a foot of space is granted between you two. He has grown suspicious.

Shifting your long glossy hair over one shoulder, you look over at him with a subtle pout. “Well I don’t see how that’s fair. You know my name but I don’t know yours.”

The beta doesn’t immediately melt at your softened composure like most males at home do. Rather he seems to clear his throat in discomfort before muttering out, “Ke’ve”

“Hm, Ke’ve.” You repeat back, as if savoring the taste of his name on your tongue. He’s nervous. No doubt, devoted to keeping his distance from the prince’s intended. There are ways to relax him, however. “Well Ke’ve, not every male is noble enough to lend his help in the middle of the night. You must know your presence has brought me great comfort out here.”

His eyes scrunch but he doesn’t respond, perhaps unsure of what response would be safe.

“You see,” With a sigh, you come to a halt. “I’m not very accustomed to feeling vulnerable. We are so far from home in a place I have never been but I still do not enjoy being seen as weak. So I wouldn’t admit this to anyone else but I feel as if I can trust you when I say,” You pause for dramatic effect and will tears to your eyes. “I’m scared.”

Were it an alpha, the essence of your fear would be enough to swoop you into their arms and make an oath of protection. Ke’ve on the other hand is a beta, so his response is more subtle. Yet just as promising when his expression falters and he looks on the verge of sighing again.

“You are safe with us.” And as sure as the sun rises in the morning, so does that inevitable flash of concern spring forth.

“I do feel safer with you.” Just a gentle brush of your fingers against his elbow. So subtle in wake of your shining vulnerability that he doesn’t shrug it off. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

A few stray pieces of hair fall over your cheek to frame your depiction of soft spoken innocence. You are perfectly poised like a flower ready to be picked, a delicate beauty that deserves to be protected at all costs. The same disposition that has had beta men falling at your feet time and time again.

They are always enchanted by your demeanor. So much so that when the Olo’ekytan’s daughter suddenly spins the table so she is straddling their waist and taking control, they can’t help but hand the reins over.

“Yes well you…you don’t need to worry.” Ke’ve’s eyes don’t hold the same snare that Neteyam’s do but you can already imagine how pretty they will look rolling to the back of his head when you have his cock in your mouth. Pleasure has a way of rendering a man defenseless, therefore giving you the perfect opportunity to carry out your plans.

With the stealth and precision of a predator stalking its prey you snake your hand up his bicep and over one broad shoulder. Consequently it has your own face inching closer to his wrist where you sensually let his pulse point rub over your throat. It will leave the trace of his scent there, igniting a primal side of him that can be molded perfectly into your designs. “How can I repay you?” You ask, batting your lashes up at him as you begin the slow descent to your knees.

But they never hit the ground.

Sharp pain erupts along your scalp as a hand abruptly grabs a chunk of your hair at the roots. That hold is used to veer you back onto your feet and fall back against a warm chest. “I can think of a few ways.”

Your carefully crafted composure shatters into a hiss as you try to recover from both the shock of being caught and the unforgiving grip Neteyam has in your hair. Even more so, the tingling sensation that brutal hold sends down your spine.

“Ow! Let go!”

“Tell the others I will be having a little talk with my omega.” Neteyam commands, ignoring your useless struggling. “You are dismissed, Ke’ve.” The beta doesn’t need to be told twice, already scurrying to get away.

“Now let’s get you sorted out.” Still keeping his hand tangled where you try to dislodge it, Neteyam drags you further into the mysterious forest. You note that the distance, however, is not quite far enough to completely conceal your whining from the others.

Feet stumbling once that hold is released, you find yourself unceremoniously deposited onto a large boulder. You can spot the cliff’s edge where it drops down into a waterfall and beyond is the rolling landscape of Pandora’s forest. The glimmer of eclipse is slowly shifting into the first ray of sunshine to cast over the horizon.

“You just had to prove me right, tiyawn.” Neteyam tutts, squatting onto his haunches so that he is at your level.

It takes considerable effort to get your brain back online and position yourself into a pose more flattering and fit for a princess. No male has ever handled you so roughly. They wouldn’t dare. But the sting of Neteyam’s tug on your scalp leaves a strange ache behind that has your mind reeling. Trying to put your confident mask back on, you fuss with your hair to get every strand back into place.

“And you just had to act like a barbarian.”

“Did you really believe it was that easy to sneak away from me?”

Your throat runs dry when you meet his eyes. This wasn’t a near successful escape, it was planned. One look at his face and it’s clear that he knew exactly when you left and exactly who was assigned to deter you.

“Can’t a woman pee in peace?” You fumble out, making your last attempt at defending your story.

“I suppose not when it ends in you practically nuzzling at another man's tewng [loincloth] like a little slut.”

Your jaw drops before you can stop it. Eyes ablaze and tail pointed on alert, you are tempted to throw caution to the wind and slap the alpha’s pretty face. No male, in fact no Na’vi, has ever used such a vulgar term to depict you. You’ve had your share of fun among the betas in your clan, but that makes you no less glittering of a gem. And certainly not a slut.

“No man of honor would even think of using such a term, let alone directing it at me.” When you rise up to your full height, Neteyam stands in suit. “Is this why you asked for my hand? Any normal prince, especially the son of Toruk Makto, should have half the women in the clan begging to mate with him. But maybe even they could not see past your arrogant disrespectful bravado, so you had to travel to another clan entirely to find an unknowing prospect.”

“Is that your theory?” Tone deceptively calm, the deep drag of his voice washes over you like silk.

“You may think that you’ve conquered and can now return home with a pep in your step but no matter what you do, there will always be one truth that will haunt you.”

You gulp down the lump in your throat when one of his long strides closes the distance between you. Regardless, you refuse to retreat.

“And what truth is that, princess?”

Your wild eyes shoot to pierce through him.

“That you chose wrong.” You let that statement hang in the air for a beat, hoping it will press down on him in the silence. However it is disappointment that lays a hold on you when his unreadable expression remains in place.

“Is that so?”

He’s close enough to nearly feel the beat of his heart.

“It may be your experience that omegas in your presence bow in submission and shudder beneath that charming grin, but I am not one of them. I am not subject to swooning for or baring my neck to any alpha. I am too independent for your tastes.”

His chest vibrates with a deep chuckle, one that ironically holds no jovial warmth to it. Instead, paired with the sinful curve of his lips, it wraps thick tendrils around you that act as the calm before the storm.

“You’re not independent, princess. You’re a spoiled brat.”

He’s undeterred by your scoff or bat of your hands when he forcefully grasps your chin between two fingers.

“When my father finds out what kind of man you-”

“Your father has done you a great disservice.” Two steps forward and Neteyam has successfully backed you up against the cool stone. “He has given you everything you’ve asked for, let you go entirely unchecked. We can place part of the blame on him for turning you into a spoiled little thing that thinks it only takes a bat of her lashes to get what she wants.”

When your lips part to sneer a nasty comment at him, Neteyam swiftly presses his thumb over them.

“It’s because of this spoiled attitude that you have not properly learned the pleasure of submitting to your nature.” He’s not trying to hide the shadow of his scent over you now, it circles you into a clouded dome. Leaning his head down, his lips just barely whisper against your own that are still trapped beneath his thumb. “You don’t understand the ecstasy of being tamed.”

A warmth pools at the pit of your stomach. You recognize that feeling and what it means. Putting your desire to win this argument aside, it’s clear that now is the time to bow out before this escalates too far.

“Get off.” At first it’s just a whisper. Then when Neteyam’s body remains curled over yours, rock hard and unmoving, your voice rises. “I said get off! You egotistical pervert!” Your cries don’t stop and neither does the useless rain of your fists against his chest.

But then he is snatching your wrists and hooking a hand beneath your thigh to slide you up onto the rock. The stone is cold against your exposed back and ass, your tail becoming trapped beneath your own weight. Neteyam crushes all hope of sitting back up when he cages your smaller form with his own bulking frame.

“Always have to make it difficult, don’t you, tiyawn?”

You fight the urge to squeeze the muscles beneath your captured hands when they land on his chest to push him away.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult if you just got off of my ass for once.”

“Oh but princess that is exactly where I want to be.” That devilish grin is accented by a ray of sunlight painting his features.

Without an inch of personal space it becomes aggravatingly obvious how gorgeous the man above you is. Neteyam is the perfect contrast of broad shoulders and a slim waist shown off by his beautiful woven battle band. His immaculate braids swing down across his cheeks and collarbones to frame his intense eyes, sharp jawline, and lips that were simply made to do sinful things.

Your reflection is cut short when a band begins to wrap around your wrists. Squirm as you might, Neteyam holds no sympathy for your protests as he expertly ties the appendages together. Empty threats. Cries for help. None of them make an ounce of difference.

“Scream as much as you want if you’re that eager to give the others a show.”

That shuts you up in an instant. It confirms your earlier observation of proximity and immediately has you playing back the conversation to guess how much of it that other males have already heard.

“You’re a monster.”

“Hm, and all yours, princess.” A wicked grin across his lips, Neteyam secures your bound wrists to a low branch over the rock. You’re left stretched out and trapped laying across the boulder beneath him.

That cocky expression blanches its color once he draws his nose along your neck. The exact spot you had tricked Ke’ve to scent you. Your heart hammers on its own accord when Neteyam’s wicked smile drops. Mere seconds ago nothing had seemed more appealing than ripping apart the alpha with the lash of your tongue, but now something in you warns to stay still. To stay quiet.

“I was going to wait until we reached Vitraya Ramunong [tree of souls], in light of tradition.” His breath is hot against your neck, a heat that travels like lava down to your very core. “But it seems my little brat can’t wait that long.”

His teeth sink in without warning. It takes a moment for the shock to fizzle out and allow you to feel the pain. Neteyam’s teeth bite and capture the soft flesh there without mercy before his lips suck a dark spot directly over where Ke’ve’s scent used to be.

Your spine arches, hips already bucking without your consent. The only response to your screams and squirming is Neteyam’s own hips pressing you back against the stone. He is ravenous. Biting, sucking, and licking at that one spot until the area has become desensitized to his ministrations.

Your body has spiked from zero to one hundred in a matter of seconds. Your head reels with the whiplash of having the male reprimand you one moment and the next sinking his teeth into a mark terrifyingly close to your mating gland.

“Better.” Neteyam finally murmurs against your neck. He seals the mark with a deceptively tender kiss as you are left short circuiting. Your instincts flare, that primal part of your nature climbing out from under the rock you’ve kept it trapped beneath.

“Are…are you insane? Biting that close-”

“I won’t mark you there tonight, tiyawn. Want to be able to feel you through the bond when that happens.” A curved knuckle runs down your kuru, making your toes curl. “Once we are under the spirit tree together. There are still some traditions I’d like to keep.” He says with a grin that you could almost associate with a charming gentleman, not the same male that just savagely ravaged your throat like a predator of the night.

“But we will need to find a way to get you to behave until then.” You can’t mirror the ease he feels as he speaks. It becomes clear now how dire your circumstances are. You had thought Neteyam wouldn’t dare to put a hand on you without permission but now he has proven to be more than willing to not only touch but leave marks behind. There is no telling where he draws the line.

And you’re scared, just as you should be, but there is something else far more terrifying that plumps into your bloodstream. A dangerous intrigue that borders excitement.

“How do you suggest we do that, princess?”

No matter how hard you try, no humble response willingly bubbles to your lips. Neteyam is still an asshole, gorgeous or not. Alluring or not. No matter how tempting he may be, that doesn’t mean it’s worth exploring the mysterious punishment he has up his sleeve. And you…well you’re still pissed.

“My behavior is nothing in comparison to yours. You-”

A hand comes down on the side of your ass hard enough to have you choking on those words.

“You hit me!” Neteyam simply tilts his head at your accusation.

“Good observation, tiyawn.” Not a hint of apology present. This man is not remorseful, he is proud. “If you keep running your mouth like that I will be forced to do it again. Knowing you, it won’t take long for me to tan that ass red.”

Your father never spanked you as a child. It would break his heart to see his little girl cry the tears it would inevitably provoke. And with your dating experience exclusively being betas, no man has ever tried to right that wrong. Thinking of riding on a pa’li with a red ass now has fear jumbling threats past your lips haphazardly.

“I swear on my-”

His right hand clamps over your mouth. The pressure is hard enough to have you whining beneath his skin.

“That’s enough from you for now.”

There is nothing left for you to do but watch. Body rendered immobile and now your last weapon at your disposal silenced, you are at the utter mercy of the prince. A mercy that does not appear to be afforded any time soon as his other hand trails down to start undoing the knots of your top.

It shouldn’t be as scary as it is, watching string be string get unlooped as your crystal top begins to fall slack. However, this particular intimacy is one you are not accustomed to.

It had started out as just a silly game you had played when you first started dating. Men were often foaming at the mouth to get a proper glimpse of your subtle breasts. It had been an immediate source of amusement as you’d seen how far they were willing to go for only a chance. And even more rewarding when you noticed how easy it was to never follow through with satisfying this desire.

So it continued. It became somewhat common knowledge among your lovers, and any future interested prospects that you keep that part of yourself private. However, you hadn’t meant for it to go on as long as it did. Eventually you would cave to a worthy beta and watch him go feral, but that was before you discovered simply how sensitive your nipples are. It only took a few times of playing with yourself, brought on by your interest in nipple piercings, for you to see how vulnerable that area of you is.

And now it is ironically Neteyam that uncovers that part of you.

He can sense the shift of your scent the moment it happens. With every tug on the feeble strings your essence takes on a darker hue. Pleasure and pain. Arousal and fear. These combinations are ones you have not been properly exposed to. Perhaps were it not for him, you would never have been humble enough to try them.

The last undone tie allows the strung crystals to slide over the curve of your chest before dropping to the floor. What pretty little things you adorn yourself with, yet they do very little to protect you. Because it’s clear to him that in your eyes, protection is never needed. You can not fathom how much you have truly gotten away with.

Prancing around in your little outfits. Torturing men with what they want but can’t truly possess. Expecting the world to shift whatever way you desire with the wave of your hand. It’s laughable how you never imagined to face the consequences of such actions.

You’re a haughty little thing just waiting to be put in your place.

“My brat.” Neteyam smirks, leaning down to place a kiss at the slope between your breasts. Goosebumps ripple over your beautiful azure skin. It’s a visceral reaction to the smallest of his touches and it drives him near insanity. How perfect this pretty body of yours will be as a canvas for his marks. A vessel for his heir.

Fuck, you are beautiful.

Perhaps he can’t entirely blame you for being so arrogant. Your beauty is enough to hold a man captive with just a simple glance. And you’ve taken advantage of that far too many times.

He allows himself to fall captive to it now. Unlike the others, he won’t need to starve after you once you’ve decided you’re done playing with him like a toy. No, you will be bound to him. You will belong to him completely.

“So pretty.” He coos, his lips just barely painting over your right breast. When his bottom lip hover over your nipple he watches in awe as it hardens. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

You’ve gone silent, but he can feel the stutter of your breath beneath his hand. It would be unfair to neglect the other side, so Neteyam takes his time showing your left breast the same gentle attention that has your other nipple following in suit. He’s heard of your reluctance to reveal such pretty breasts to your lovers, but he never imagined it would be due to such sensitivity.

It’s like watching a flower bloom for him. The way you squirm and whine at even the drag of his eyes over your delectable form. Neteyam lets his hand slip from your mouth, no longer willing to explore only with his lips.

His fingertips start a trail down by your navel and ascend up over your stomach and towards your chest at a slow pace. When he finally reaches to gently palm at your right breasts he feels your heartbeat pounding like a drum under his fingers. So many nights he has dreamed of touching you like this, rendering you utterly speechless before he has even started. Now as your lips part and breath becomes labored from his simple touches, there is no sight more delightful.

You are perfect. You have an attitude that is in major need of fixing but even that is simply a beautiful challenge Eywa has created for him. The way you fit in his hands, gently massaging that supple flesh, it’s clear She crafted your body specifically for him too.

The sun has finally breached the line of the horizon and now it sparkles along your chest in a dazzling show. The white crystals woven in your hair remind him of the halos worn by the angels his father has described.

He applies more pressure with his right hand until the plump flesh is spilling between his fingers, giving him the perfect presentation for his salivating mouth. What starts out as an open mouthed kiss a few inches above your nipple quickly turns into sucking that flesh into his mouth until you are writhing. He groans at the sounds you make and when he pulls back to see the purple mark rising along your skin, the sight is enough to have him on the brink of purring in elation.

Neteyam bends forward and starts crafting his brand on the other side so they are a matching set. This time he takes care in placing it further below your left nipple, at the crease where your stomach meets your chest. It will be difficult for you to find a top able to cover up this claim wrought by his teeth, a purposeful decision on his part.

“Tey…mmm… teyam wait!”

He grins at the cute nickname you’ve already coined for him, but that only buys you a few seconds before he is finally puckering his lips around one of your stiff points. The reaction is instantaneous, spine curving and a screech barreling up your throat. He doesn’t start off sucking too hard, instead just enjoys the way you feel in his mouth. Eventually, though, the whines you make are too decadent for him to resist making them ring louder. So he sucks harder at the little point and groans around the sensitive area so that it has vibrations shooting through you.

“Finally being so good to me, tiyawn, aren’t you?” He says, taking a moment to release your nipple with an audible pop. “Laying yourself out for me to enjoy. I knew you could be a good girl.”

You haven’t come to earn this praise yet, but it’s important to leave an alluring snippet that exhibits what could come if you only behave. As much as you may want to fight it, your nature won’t let you escape how good such praise feels. You are a stubborn woman but your body wants to submit to him. There is a part of you, no matter how deep you’ve buried it, that yearns to please your alpha.

He snaps you back into the moment by softly closing his teeth around your left nipple. It takes a hand against your stomach to stop you from rolling onto your side and away from his soft torment.

“It’s too sensitive! Stop!” Your pouted lips beg but your strengthening perfume gives your arousal away. Just as he figured, you’ve yet to experience how beautifully pleasure and pain intertwine. He rolls that bud sensually between his teeth before carefully giving it a tug.

He alternates between tormenting your nipples and savoring the plush curve of your breasts with his hands and mouth. The skin is soft beneath his calloused palms. It has him wondering how it would feel to have that velvety skin squished around his cock and as he fucks your breasts. Neteyam swallows back the pooling saliva on his tongue, a string of it still connecting his lips to where he laid his last mark on your tits. It’s almost tempting enough to forgo his plans altogether and sate his lust driven curiosity, but Neteyam shakes it away.

The two of you will have plenty of time to experiment later.

“Teyam, please no more. It’s too much!” Your pleas have died down in volume. Now they are coated with your labored breath as you try to control the pounding of your heart.

“Too much, princess?” He questions and guides his hand down south to rest over your loincloth. “Or not enough?” When he cups your pussy through the fabric you roll up against him and chase whatever friction he is willing to give.

It’s not nearly enough, he can tell from your disappointed expression when he pulls away entirely. Pupils blown wide and chest heaving to catch your breath, you remain silent as he reaches for the pouch attached to his tewng.

Neteyam pulls out a line of woven crystals, much like the ones you wear in your hair but these were foraged from the caves near his home. There are fastens on either end of the chain that took far too much time for him to craft.

“Is that for me?” Naturally you ask, that pretty face already showing how quick you are to forget what he was doing to you mere seconds ago once a shiny gift is presented. Neteyam fights the curve of his lips and keeps his every from rolling. Always so predictable.

“Just for you, princess.”

He had crafted it after his last visit to your village. Far before the Olangi clan thought the threat of Sky People was great enough to require protection but him and his father had been there to spread the news regardless. He knew before you even spoke that you thought the world was at your feet. Even the way you walked, spoke of a spoiled elegance. And when he had tried to sate his curiosity towards you with a conversation you were nothing but rude and spiteful towards him.

He knew then that you were going to be his, one or another.

And so he started foraging for the crystals that first night back.

“So pretty,” you murmur, voice airy. Those golden eyes narrow as you squint to look at it. Despite your current position and already wrecked voice, a sneaky little smirk forms over your lips. “But you miscounted. My hair is much longer than that.”

He lets you have your moment, watches as you grin up at him as if you have finally landed a critical blow. All for that to sizzle out when he bends down to whisper in your ear.

“Who said anything about your hair?”

The confused scrunch of your features doesn’t last long when he begins running the cool metal of the clamps up and down your right nipple. Nipple clamps are not a traditional erotic tool for the Na’vi so he’s certain you don’t believe your first instinct as to where that is going until he starts to pinch the right one to prepare it.

“Neteyam, no! Get that away-” He clasps his other hand over your mouth again. Always the demands with you. Sooner than later you will learn that begging gets you a lot further with him. It’s a little trickier to prepare with only one hand available but Neteyam manages.

The alpha plants a knee across your pelvis to keep you place while his right hand tugs at your nipples to confirm they are pointed enough to clamp onto. When the first clamp goes on your right nipple, your screeching goes up an octave. You know what to expect better when the left one is attached but that doesn’t diminish your reaction.

Lovely little drama queen you are, the fit that follows is inevitable. He’s tested the clamps and consulted with several Sky People before deciding to use them on you so he knows there isn’t any real damage being done. Still, you are going to squirm and screech and, were it not for his hand, probably shout every insult you can think of at him, because you have never been punished like this. And your tantrums are what has worked for you in the past.

He lets you fight it out as he holds you down. Neteyam doesn’t mind as it gives him time to admire his handy work. The chain of crystal connecting the clamps hang exquisitely between your curves. Those stiff points have turned a new shade of purple as they peek out between the clamp’s teeth.

“Enough.” Neteyam finally quips back, tugging at the chain. A mix between a moan and groan rumbles from your throat. Once his hand has retreated he can hear the sound properly. Keeping his pointer finger curled around the crystal chain, the prince raises a warning brow at you. “Are you done throwing your fit?”

He watches your pupils dilate and lips curl into a pout.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like my gift?”

“It hurts.” You whimper with a quivering bottom lip. It’s difficult to say how genuine the reaction is considering what a good little actress you are.

He nods his head, mocking your pout with a feigned one upon his own lips. That only whips your stare into pointed daggers.

“It’s supposed to, tiyawn. That’s why it is called punishment.” He kisses right above your left clamped nipple. “A term you may become very familiar with if you don’t fix your attitude.”

Pulling back from where you glare, Neteyam settles himself beside you on his side. His left arm props against the rock to casually support his head while the right drags down your torso. The alpha’s ears perks at the little hiss you release when he just barely brushes the chain but he continues down south.

Another time when the moon is still out he will kiss every little tanhi that dots your precious body until you cry for more. For now, he is only focused on one location.

Neteyam can sense the heat of your core the second his fingertips slip beneath your loincloth’s waistband. You are soft and wet, just like he had imagined so many times. Flared nostrils greedily inhale your scent as he pauses to cup your entire pussy. Much like before, you can’t help but react to his touch. With a little more pressure in his firm hold, a trickle of wetness drops onto his palm.

Fuck, you are inescapable!

You may believe he is to blame for this arrangement but the truth is you are the one that has trapped him since the moment he caught a whiff of your essence. It is him that has been utterly destroyed by his constant thoughts of you.

“But I know that isn’t all there is to it, is there?” He continues, softly kissing your shoulder. “It’s not just pain you feel. There’s something else.”

Your poor bottom lip has been utterly abused by your sharp teeth. Whatever sacrifice it takes for you to keep from admitting the truth to him. He discards your tewng with one hand.

“A unique sense of-” He spreads your folds to suddenly massage your peeking clit with his pointer finger, stealing a gasp from you. “Pleasure.” Neteyam finishes with a grin.

You turn to putty in his hands. The tension riddled along your muscles unravel as he rubs circles along your clit with just the right amount of pressure. When he clasps the chain between his teeth and tugs your eyes fly open, taking in your surroundings as if the pleasure has made you forget where you are entirely.

“Can’t space out on me yet, princess. We still have more to discuss.”

Talking appears to be the last thing on your mind, hips already rolling to hump against his hand. So close to the edge already that it causes a burst of pride to warm in his chest. Warm thighs bracket his hand as if afraid it will pull away at any moment. Smiling softly at the display, Neteyam smoothly covers your upper body with his own, nose to nose in a matter of seconds.

There is nowhere for you to hide now, every microreaction bared for him. Those vibrant eyes remain locked on his own, but he catches the way they occasionally dart to his lips before returning.

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Your lips against his are like decadent chocolate, the swirl of his tongue around your own is another burst of flavor he simply can not get enough of. And so the prince swirls the kiss into a languid roll of passion that leaves your lips ruby red and breaths coming out in puffs once he pulls away.

His hand is drenched in your juices. So much so that when he switches to his thumb rubbing your clit and pointer finger tapping at your entrance, those soaking walls capture him at the first sign of intrusion. Your tight heat sucks in the first digit, pulsing around him greedily as your eyes roll back.

Another tug to the chain and he has your attention again.

“Let’s start with an easy question, tiyawn.” He starts. “What were you going to do to Ke’ve?”

Smart little thing that you are, or perhaps manipulative is a more accurate term, you act as if the pleasure has completely swept you away from understanding him. Beautiful little whimpers rumble in your throat and a look of pure lust crosses over your deceivingly innocent features.

Neteyam isn’t willing to wait to see how you act your way out of this.

His finger stops curling and thumb halts before his other hand pushes your thigh upward so that he can land a crackling spank to your ass.

“Princess,” Neteyam drawls out in a mocking sing-song voice. “I’m running out of patience.”

The charade drops but your body trembles from the sudden lack of stimulation.

“I was going to distract him.” It’s spoken so softly that his ears twitch and strain to make sure he hears you correctly. The finger inside of you restarts, curling up against your g spot while his thumb torments that bundle of nerves from the other side.

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” He slots his face against the slope of your throat. The fragrance that is so uniquely you is especially strong here so there is no stopping the way his tongue naturally flicks out to draw a wet line from your collarbones to jaw. “Let me be more specific. How were you going to distract him?”

The context clues were clearly enough to put two and two together, but he still demands that you say it out loud. The first step to developing remorse is acknowledging what was done.

When you take your time thinking up a strategic answer he cruelly pulls his finger out and jams a second one back with it on the thrust. Your toes curl and your face is turned to bury in your hair.

“Princess.”

No response, just a small whine as he scissor his long digits to stretch those velvet walls.

“Were you going to suck his cock?”

Your silence is rewarded with his hand stilling. The disappointment has your lips parting to no doubt say something far outside of a good girl’s vocabulary, but one raised brow has you falter in that decision.

He twirls the middle of the chain around one finger so it is shortened and with each word he tugs it back sharply.

“Were. You. Going. To. Suck. His. Cock.”

“Ah mm Yes!” You gasp, eyes squeezed shut but pussy wildly pulsing around his fingers.

“That’s what I thought.” He revels in the naive relief you exhibit when he begins his ministrations between your thighs again. How cute of you to think that a little truth would forgive your earlier sins.

Neteyam prowls down your body, savoring the slide of your skin against his own until he is settled between your thighs that are now pushed over his shoulders and he has an unobstructed view of your greedy cunt. While diligently pushing you closer to an orgasm, the alpha takes special care to decide where his next visual claim will be laid. He decides on two spots.

The first one is atop your upper thigh where it will be in clear view of anyone you come across and the second is harshly sucked into the sensitive flesh of your left inner thigh.

“You will never walk upon Omatikay soil without my marks.”

You don’t appear to hear him.

“Oh mm Neteyam…feels so good.”

It might just be the first good thing you’ve said all day and his inner alpha purrs in deep satisfaction. Unfortunately for you, punishment comes before rewards.

Retracting his hand entirely, Neteyam swipes the remnants of your sticky arousal over your inner thighs, painting his beautiful canvas. There is no time to complain at the loss before he is running the flat of his tongue from your convulsing pussy up over your clit and even navel.

That wet muscle dances along and between your folds in practiced precision. Your essence tantalizes his very tastebuds until he is producing so much saliva that it is difficult to say how much of the wet mess at your apex is made from him versus you. He supposes in some ways he is responsible for both.

The prince’s lips shine with the evidence when he pulls back to speak.

“Do good girls do that?”

“Huh…what?”

“Do good girls try to suck cocks that are not their alpha’s?” He reiterates, weaving a firm steel into his voice.

“I…uh…no,” Comes your timid response.

Those thick lashes flutter when he returns to feasting on your delicious cunt. It only lasts for a second, however, before he is speaking against the soft skin of your thighs.

“That’s right, tiyawn. Good omegas know who they belong to.”

Your body jolts as if stung by lightning when his thumb rubs at your sensitive nub again. He can see it in your face now. His omega is just barely tipping on the edge of release.

“So what do you think you should do about it?”

Breath borderline erratic the muscles in your legs tense in anticipation of that wonderful release. The same one that he roughly rips away when you don’t respond, not daring to even breath across your cunt.

“No no please! I’m so close! Just a little longer. I wanna come!”

“What do you think you should do about it?” Neteyam repeats, tampering down the smirk that threatens to cross his lips when he sees the way you whine and tugs at your bonds.

“For…for what?” You’re so genuinely confused he has to hold back a coo at how adorable you look.

“What do you think you should do to make up for trying to suck his cock?”

That little head of yours is working overtime to craft an intelligent response. It becomes all that much harder when he starts playing with your clit again, keeping you tantalizingly close to the edge but never over.

“I…I could…I..”

“Yes?” Neteyam considers himself very patient but he is forced to halt his touch when you take too long to respond and get far too close to coming.

“No wait! Why did you stop?” Your foot stomps against the rock like the spoiled brat that you are, so utterly confused and crestfallen at being denied for the first time. Has any male ever even tried to edge you? If your response is anything to go off of, it’s clear that he will be the first to teach you the joys of orgasm denial too.

“Answer my question, oeyӓ tiyawn [my love].”

Frustrated tears run from the corner of your eyes and this time Neteyam is positive they are genuine. Your little pout is broken by sharp teeth torturing your bottom lip again while you try to get a hold of yourself to respond properly.

“I…I could suck your cock.” It comes out almost as a question but the prince is eager to take it.

“There you go.” He hoists himself up to deposit a kiss on your lips before shrinking back down and continuing a very special kiss between your legs. Your pretty thighs immediately clamp around his head, shaking so hard he can feel the vibrations. As much as he wants to taste your release properly he can’t pass up the opportunity to see your face for the first time as you come.

So the alpha escapes the cage of your thighs and replaces his tongue with skilled fingers the fuck up into your pussy and play with that precious bundle of nerves. He kisses his way up your body, this time being mindful of the crystal chain, until he is nuzzling against your cheek. The woodsy essence of his own scent will integrate there, letting everyone know that you have been claimed.

“Such a smart girl my omega is. So good for her alpha.”

That is your undoing. Like a woven tapestry he watches you unravel into an explosion of pure ecstasy. All of this time you’ve denied yourself the wondrous caress of an alpha’s praise. It’s left you with no defenses once finally showered with his sweet words. Neteyam groans deeply beneath your whiny scream, savoring the way his hand is now properly drenched as he rides you through the orgasm.

You don’t register when Neteyam pulls away. In fact your head is so high above the clouds that it’s only when your hands drop like a dead weight against the boulder that you realize Neteyam has cut your bonds.

It feels as if the world is a hazy blur of color, everything so vibrant and wondrous as you come down from that high. Even the simple kisses Neteyam gives to each of your wrists feels like drinking sunshine. In fact it is so incredible that you instantly crave more.

More of him.

More of this electric pleasure.

Anything and everything that has brought you into such a happy state.

However, when the prince comes to carefully help you off the boulder and back onto your feet, it’s suddenly clear what it will take to get another taste of cloud nine. And in this case, that means tasting him.

Neteyam hardly needs to prompt you onto your knees. Whatever is brewing inside of you is now your new addiction and somehow being at eye level with his crotch has never seemed more appealing. Your alpha wants you to atone for your sins, perhaps then he will grant you another orgasm. Well if taking him down your throat is redemption then you are going to be good at this game.

Past experience is the foundation of your confidence.

Hands still shaking with aftershock, they fumble to get a hold of his tewng. You’re about to catch hold of the waistband and simply rip the fabric down when strong hands catch your wrists. You look up at him in bewilderment. What type of man stops a woman on her knees second before he is about to get his dick sucked?

“We’re not going to do this your way, princess. If you want to make it up to me then you will learn to follow my instructions.”

In some ways it’s borderline insulting. What is wrong with the way you suck a male off? No man has ever complained. And if they did, how would Neteyam even know? He’s never experienced nor witnessed what you do. But of course as an alpha he must believe he knows best.

Typical.

Those thoughts don’t bubble into words, however, because as much as you would like to prove how fucking fantastic you are all on your own, you don’t want it more than another orgasm. Preferably by the means of his skilled tongue.

When he drops your wrists you shift uncomfortably, both impatience and the tight press of the clamps around your nipples creates the undeniable need to squirm. All while Neteyam simply watches you from above, perfectly calm and entertained by your position.

That is until you go to shift the clamps and your wrists are immediately snagged again.

“Did I say you could touch that?” He asks, that smooth voice taking on a smoky edge. Just when you are about to pout, however, Neteyam pulls your hands to place them along his upper thighs. You don’t need to be told twice. Running your hands along the smooth skin and squeezing the corded muscle there is a nice enough distraction to silence your objections.

That is, until a new distraction presents itself.

His long fingers carefully start to undo the ties of his tewng. Done at such a leisured pace it’s obvious he is determined to torture you, even pausing at one point to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before finally lets the cloth fall away.

Excitement quickly mingles with apprehension when you see what you are faced with.

Beta males have always satisfied you with their size, just enough to make you choke a little and hit that special spot inside of you. However, you’ve forgotten entirely what it means to be with an alpha. Neteyam’s cock curves up against his lower abs, fully hard and already sporting a drop of precum. But even the thought of fitting your mouth around that bulbous head, let alone trying to get the massive length down your throat makes your ears begin to twitch.

All confidence quickly drains from your face.

“Are you ready to listen now?”

Finally peeling your gaze away from his twitching cock, you look up at him to see him staring down at you with the same intensity.

“Yes.” You whisper, suddenly grateful for promised instruction now that you’ve been properly thrown for a loop. Perhaps you should have branched out to fucking with alphas at least once, just to know the difference properly. Because now you feel like a proper virgin waiting for their first lesson on giving a blow job.

Surprisingly there is one feeling that rises higher than your trepidation.

Curiosity.

Somehow the challenge before you sparks a further interest. A need to map out every part of his body until it has become less mysterious. Until it feels familiar beneath your hands.

And as if Neteyam can read your thoughts, he says, “You can explore now, tiyawn. Take your time.”

Take your time. Not the direction you would expect from a male whose cock is fully hard and jerking against his lower stomach. You had thought all alphas to be forceful, wanting to claim and fuck in a quick and dirty fashion. But Neteyam stays true to his word when your hands slowly travel up his thighs.

You are given more than enough time to familiarize yourself with the area. You start small, running the pads of your fingers down his muscular abdomen to feel each and every muscle there. Then once a little bit of confidence has been regained they come to rest around his base.

The dark blue shade of his skin elegantly bleeds into a beautiful purple the closer to the tip it goes. All to then end on a subdued shade of pink along his head and balls. Even without the moonlight you can make out the small tanhi that dot along his skin. They lead along the side, creating a trail beside the thick vein lacing the underside of this cock before fanning out around the tip. As if they were perfectly crafted to entice your eyes towards the prize.

Neteyam’s tail lashes the first time you run your fingers over him. His arousal is an essence that infiltrates the very air around you like a thick cloud. Surely he must be anxious for you to hurry up, but the prince keeps his body strictly in place for your exploration.

It is only when he catches your tongue swiping over your bottom lip that he speaks up.

“You can use your tongue, tiyawn.” With an inaudible gasp you pull back in surprise, practically forgetting he was there. An amused grin shows off his pearly white teeth, never faltering as you hesitate for a moment. “Are you feeling shy, princess?”

“No.” You bite back even as your stomach does a somersault.

“Remember, I will guide you. No need to stress.” His fingers run through your scalp and in spite of how good that feels you rear back and glare at him.

You don’t need help. And you sure as hell are not shy. So what if you are a little caught off guard? That does not give him the right to treat you like an omega virgin ripe for the picking.

So you draw forward and boldly draw the flat of your tongue slowly from the base to tip. Much like he had done between your own thighs. Because much like him, you are not afraid and you are not one to hand the reins over easily.

What you do not anticipate is how the taste of him blossoms over your tastebuds. It sends a thrill through you that is difficult to conceal as you go in for another taste. It gets sloppy very quickly. The moment you try to take the head into your mouth, your nerves get the better of you and that ends up making you draw back.

Just in time as Neteyam slots a hand in your dark locks and grabs hold of the roots. “Why are you rushing, omega?”

“I am not.”

“Follow my directions. No need to prove yourself.” He says, but he already wears a crooked smirk.

It continues like this back and forth until you are finally tired of having your head yanked back by your hair so you wait for his instructions. Neteyam is meticulous in the way he has you explore, the way he forces you to taste him before even giving you the chance to take him into your mouth.

But when you do finally take in the first few inches your inner omega springs forth without reserve. You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as they slip past your outstretched lips. And that stretch, that utterly deniable feeling of being stretched full, is what has you drawing in for more.

Before now being on your knees has always felt like a place of power. You’ve riddle men down to whimpering messes just by the skilled trace of your tongue. You’ve swallowed everything they’ve had to give while they’ve sung curses to the sky. It is them that is rendered entirely insatiable as you hold their pleasure in the palm of your hand.

It doesn’t feel that way now.

It’s hard to determine what he awakens within you but every time you are pulled off of his cock and told to take a moment to breathe, it is you that feels insatiable. You figured it would get better once Neteyam fell deep enough into his own ecstasy but somehow the evidence of his pleasure only escalates your own addiction. You can never get enough of him.

Never will you tire of seeing his magnificent neck on display when he throws his head back with a rumbled groan. Never will you suck down the taste of him enough to satisfy your carnal desires. And never will there be a more magnificent feeling than the wash of his praise over you as your throat contracts and you gags around him.

It is him that leaves you ravenous.

“All the way down now, princess. That’s it, you can take it.”

You’d take just about anything this man says at gospel at this point. A fact that is evident by the way you no longer hesitate to sheath him down your throat when commanded. And when those sinfully gorgeous hips start to move, you fight every need for breath and simply let him fuck your throat without complaint.

In fact it is you that complains when you are given a chance to breathe, tears streaking down your face and drool coating your chin.

“No whining.” Neteyam tsks, wagging a finger playfully. It would normally piss you off but now it only registers as the absence of praise. So when he continues to the pattern, moaning and bucking his hips only to pull off seconds later, you bite back the urge to cry and beg for his cum. “Just get me wet, princess. Tongue out. There you go.”

It makes no sense, but then again that seems to be the theme when it comes to Neteyam. He demands you suck him off only to deny you the pleasure of feeling him shoot down your throat. Your pretty face is nothing but a mess of tears and spit when he finally rears you back for the last time. For a moment it seems possible he will jerk himself off and finish across your face or pinched nipples but his next direction has your tail tucking.

“There’s my good girl. Now stand up for me.”

“Neteyam.” You whine but he is quick to grab hold of that crystal chain and force you to your feet as your nipples ache.

“Are you still wet for me, omega? Spread your legs.” He slides a hand between your thighs to inspect the evidence of just how aroused you truly are. “Very good girl.” He grins against your ear, as if he didn’t already know how desperate he has made you.

It’s only a second of attention to your clit before he is taking your hand and dragging you through the forest.

Neteyam has always been known for being meticulous. Or in Lo’ak’s words, obsessive. He has lived his life with a plan and great attention to detail. So when he has you following him, your hand in his own, he can’t help but look for the perfect spot to take you. The ideal place where he can admire you spread out for him and finally experience what it is to be inside of that sweet little body.

He’s pleased to find you put up no fuss when he coerces you onto your stomach with your face down and ass up. In fact, your spine curves as you look back at him, a seductive gleam in your eyes that says you are still not above playing games to get what you want.

“M’ready.” You sigh against the grass, tail curling upwards to give him access. It may as well be the equivalent of snapping your fingers in a fetching command. Regardless, Neteyam decides to let you off this time, especially when you are creating the most gorgeous display for him.

Your pussy clenches around open air, your cunt an absolute mess that has dripped down between your thighs. There is no mistaking what you want.

But that doesn’t mean that is what you’re going to get.

You don’t immediately react when he uses both hands to knead and spread your plump cheeks apart, but when he begins to push a finger at your tightest hole, you squeak and draw back. With a stern hand gripping your hip he pulls you back against him where he kneels. Tentatively you trust him once more only to squirm when he only sticks his fingers into your pussy in order to collect your slick arousal and spread it between your cheeks.

“Neteyam!”

“Mawey, princess. You’ll like it, I promise.” And you will, despite your better judgment.

“No, not there!” Were it not for the hazy glow he has you in now you surely would claw his eyes out for even suggesting such a thing but with his thumb reaching down to rub at your sensitive clit, your defenses are greatly weakened.

“And why not, tiyawn?”

“I want you to fuck me.” You drawl with a whine.

“And I am.” Neteyam slinks up so his chest is pressed against your back, pushing away your hair so he can whisper in your ear. “I am going to fuck my spoiled brat until the only words she can manage to utter are thank you and my name.”

You sputter at his sensual words, pussy trying to clamp around the finger that swirls through your juices.

“But that’s…t-that’s not what I mean.”

“Are you nervous, tiyawn?”

“N-no.”

“No male has ever tried to stretch this little hole before, have they?”

You simply attempt to tuck your face away from him as it turns a lovely shade of red. Neteyam grins and kisses your cheek.

“I am going to take every first you have left, princess. I will fuck all of your holes over and over again, including this naughty little hole.” A shudder ripples through your trapped frame. “Your greedy pussy too but the first time I do that we will bonded beneath Vitraya Ramunong so until then…” He grips your hip to keep you in place when his lubed finger finally starts pushing past that clenching rim.

“Breathe oeyӓ tiyawn.” He hushes your whines. It takes considerable effort to coax you into relaxing for him but Neteyam finds that the right amount of praise and gentle kisses seems to get the job done.

Fuck, you are so incredibly tight! It feels as if you are trying to cut off the circulation in his fingers as he adds another. His heart races at those pulsing walls around his cock. You do nothing to aid his patience as little pants filtering from your lips and soon your eyes are fluttering closed.

You won’t want to admit it, but this new pleasure has you entirely hooked. A strange sensation no doubt, and even uncomfortable at times he can tell as you struggle to take a third finger but so too do you eventually start pushing your hips back against the intrusion.

Holding you in place is no longer required, allowing his other hand to slip to the front of your body and resume strumming your clit. Grass becomes intertwined with the sparkling crystals in your hair due to the way you keep turning your head to whine and squirm.

“I wish you could see how perfect you look like this. Sweet little ass sucking in my fingers like it was made for this. I knew I’d see you like this someday, my pretty brat learning to behave.”

“F-fuck you.” You sputter.

Neteyam can’t even find it within himself to be mad when you are clenching around him like this. He’ll take care of that naughty mouth soon, but for now he is content to focus on making your body fully submit to him.

“As you wish, omega.”

The prince pulls his fingers out and makes sure to spread more of your natural lube over his cock. He feels like he could bust any moment just looking at your hole clenching at the loss. The gleam in your eyes when he lines the head of his cock up to your tightest hole gives him all the information he needs to know.

“Teyam!” You gasp just before his head makes it past the entrance.

“Doing so good for me, omega. Stay nice and relaxed.”

“It’s not going to fit.” The protest is greatly undermined by the way your pussy leaks juices down your thigh.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make it fit.”

And true to his word, Neteyam patiently rears forward and rubs sinful circles over your clit until his pelvis is cushioned by your plush ass.

“Oh my Eywa!” You quiver, thighs no longer doing the work to keep you up.

“What was it you said about getting off your ass?”

“You fucking…Oh…asshole.” Your insults are barely tangible as he begins with shallow thrusts. “Oh my…oh…aahh.”

“Different than you thought, isn’t it?” He smirks, but even he has to close his eyes and take a moment to breathe. Your walls cinch around him so tightly it feels as if you're trying to strangle his cock. Even his shallow thrusts take considerable effort, even more difficult not to prematurely fill you with his seed every time those gummy walls pulse. “Deep breathes. Let yourself enjoy it.”

“M-more.”

His ears perk, wondering if he has misheard you.

“What was-”

“More! Move now! Move fucking now I swear-” The air is punched from your lungs when he harshly rears back to the tip before plunging himself all the way inside again. The noise that escapes you is one he has never heard before and he knows for a fact that it rings loud enough through the trees for the others to detect.

Grasping a handful of hair he pulls you up onto your knees so that your back is flush against his chest. From this vantage point he can see the crystal chain sparkling in the sunlight.

“Is that any way to ask for what you want?” He rumbles against your ear.

The sound of clapping skin echoes through the forest as you eagerly push yourself back against his now brutal pace.

“Teyamteyamteyam,” Comes your endless spew, head thrown back against his shoulder. He’s too lost in his own ecstasy to chew you out for not answering his question. Instead he roughly manhandles you off of his cock and pushes you to lay down on your back.

“But-”

Legs thrown around his waist he sinks back inside to the hilt. “You need to learn some fucking patience, princess.”

“I’m sorryyyyy!” You drawl but those little hands are already grasp at his biceps, demanding that he slots himself closer. Looking down he swears he can practically see his cock moving in your stomach.

“How are these pretty tits doing, hm?” Swooping down, he leaves sloppy kisses around your secured nipples, groaning when your fingers claws at his hair to pull him closer. “Tell me the truth now, princess. Tell me how much you love me my cock in your ass.”

He knows you're far gone when a response comes back without any fight. “I love..ngh..ah…I love your cock in my ass. Don’t stop, alpha. Pleasepleaseplease.”

“Take a breath for me.” He commands softly and the second you comply he undoes both claps in tandem. In some ways he has heard that taking them off is more painful than putting them on. If that is true, you must have a secret love for such pain because you bare down on him so hard that it takes everything within him not to bust inside of you.

“Fuck!” You curse, yanking him down impossibly closer. “Neteyam!”

“Good girl, princess. My good girl.” He murmurs between sloppy kisses laid on your chest. He licks gently over your pointed nipples in efforts to soothe them.

Neteyam’s own patience is quickly unraveling but he wants to come in time with you. He wants you to squirt across him as he paints your walls white. So with his own breaths coming out in pants and hips ricketing at a desperate speed, he reaches between you and assaults that little bundle of nerves.

“Come on, brat. Do as you're told for once and come for me.”

You steal the very air from his lungs. Your silky walls milk him dry as you come around him. Stars dot his vision and his abdomen flexes at the pure pressure of his own release. He spills himself inside of you as your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

When he finally does come down from that high, your grip won’t release. His name is a whispered mantra on your lips as you pull his heavy body atop of yours. He falls without resistance, crushing you beneath him.

You’re overwhelmed. It makes him both proud and spiteful that no other male has truly managed to get you into this floaty state before. From the way you claw at him as if he is the very oxygen you rely on, it’s clear you don’t know how to handle such new intense emotions. To think you’ve gone so many years without truly satisfying your omega.

“I’ve got you, omega. Your alpha’s here.” He tries to prop himself up on an elbow to relieve some of his body weight from you, but that has your panic rising. With an endless draw of sweet nothings he presses himself back down just in time for your lips to demand his.

That anxiety gradually smoothes away the longer he indulges the impromptu makeout session. When his tongue swirls around yours, your movements become more leisurely. Even the very nature of the kiss becomes lazy while you softly play with his neat braids.

“Teyam…”

“Yes princess?” He checks to make sure your breathing has finally turned back to normal after pulling away.

“I’m ready to sleep.” You say as a matter of fact.

“No tiyawn we still-” It’s too late. Chest somehow managing to rise and fall beneath his weight and eyes fluttered closed, you are dead to the world. Very typical fashion for you to simply state your wants as reality without waiting for any protests.

He rolls his eyes fondly before carefully situating both of you onto your sides. His legs feel like thin vines walloping in the wind. Neteyam has to hold back a groan when he finally manages to slip out of you. Bathing in the sunlight with you tucked against his side, he allows himself one moment to recover and bask in the feeling.

And when that moment is gone, he does everything in his power to dress and clean up both of you without disturbing your slumber. Your hair is still tangled and the echoing screams are sure to be enough evidence of what has happened between you two but when he walks out carrying you bridal style, he playfully glares at the other males who are anxious to make their teasing comments. They will beat him up about it later, for now it is important that you sleep.

With narrowed eyes and a hiss he demands their silence before he situates you in front of him on the pa’li. Facing sideways on the horse you snuggle closer in your sleep, body shivering. You only wake for a second so that he can slip his thick poncho over the both of you. This way you are kept warm and eyes are shielded from the sun as you sleep.

“Well?” Tak’nal, his second in command, asks with a raised brow.

“Problem solved.” Neteyam says simply. “Let’s go home.”

Writing this felt like a fever dream😂🫠 Please don't be shy, let me know what you think😚💗

Unofficial Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ikeyniofthetayrangi @plantgirliewholovespandora @nakedinthetrees

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shanesevikasfuckdoll · 22 days ago

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Sevika Headcanons 🦾

🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫

What I think Sevika would be like generally. a little bit of switch Sevika. 🦾

SFW:

She can cook well. She just doesn't cook OFTEN. I think that's something people don't get, but I think she's a good cook.

If you can't cook, she'll happily cook for the both of you.

If you can't, she'll probably most definitely make fun of you for not knowing how to use a knife, but she'll be happy to cook for you.

As long as you wash the dishes.

She does not have a type at all. Physical appearance? None. All she wants is someone competent, and someone that is okay with her not being home as much. But she does make it up to you.

If you have long hair, she'll braid it, and even help you oil your scalp once in awhile, like her mother taught her to.

If you have short and buzzed hair, she likes to run her hand through the freshly buzzed hair, and also like to help you oil your scalp.

Amazing with henna. You once bought her some henna, and she teared up a little bit, since it's been a long time since she's ever done henna on herself, ever since her mom died.

She decorates you with henna once in awhile, during her free time, and she likes to teach you about her culture that her mom has passed down onto her, and you help her heal her inner child by doing that.

You like to get her in touch of her culture, and she likes you even more because of that. In Zaun, there's not much of a place for sentimentality, but this, her culture, her mother is a part of her, and you like to remind her that with what happens everyday, she's still herself. That she's not just a woman fighting for the freedom of Zaun, that she's also herself.

She tends to forget that, after all.

TOUCH STARVED AS HELL.

Won't let just anyone touch her, only you, though.

She's actually really clingy. I mean, REALLY clingy. You'd be surprised. Of course, she still has a reputation to maintain, but even so, she doesn't shy away from showing you love outside the comfort of your own home.

Her love languages are definitely Acts of Service, Physical Touch, and Gift Giving.

She likes to do small things for you, like make you a cup of coffee in the morning. Charge your phone, when you're asleep. Give you a massage when you had a particularly bad day.

I lied. It's not small things, she does EVERYTHING for you. Opening doors wherever you go. Helping you change out of your clothes when you're drunk. Carrying you wherever, when your feet feel tired. Anything, you name it.

For gift giving, she likes getting you stuff that remind her of you. Like, a particular flower, or trinket, that she thinks you'll love, she'll find a way to get it. If she can't however, she'll just tell you about it. "I saw a butterfly. Reminded me of you" Anything.

Sometimes, when she goes away for long periods of time, you better expect 2 things. 1. she'll come home with alot of bruises and cuts. 2. She brought food, or a little trinket.

When Sevika is out for a work trip, she'll call you the whole way there, until she has to get off the trainz and actually do business.

Hates, hates, hates when you're the one going out, and it's her rest day. She's not stopping you from having your own life, she's just a baby that wants your undivided love and attention. And who are you to deny her of such?

Not often jealous, but extremely possessive.

I lied, she is a bit jealous, but not because she doesn't trust you. She doesn't trust other people.

One time you were out at night and a guy catcalled you. Ooh, boy, let's just say he was beyond saving at that point.

She's EXTREMELY loyal. That actually goes without saying, but just wanted to put that out there.

And you're as loyal to her as she is to you. That's what she admires so much about you, not just the love, but the loyalty, and how she knows that you're always on her side, and you'll choose her no matter what.

She loves, loves, loves it when you cut her hair. You're the only person besides a barber that can touch her hair.

She's really careful of not hitting, or crushing you with her robotic hand, and at first, she doesn't even touch you with it. But when you show her it's okay, and you're not scared of her, she loosens up a bit, and lets you hold it. With caution.

She likes it when you caress her face, and absolutely loves it when you kiss her knuckles. Even on her robotic hand.

She giggles like a little girl, when you two are alone. It's kind of cute to see her that way. That's her way of showing her vulnerability.

She loves drama. There's alot of perks of being the right hand woman. She gets to hear everything going on in Zaun. Although she is a quiet woman, she'll tell you everything that happened throughout the day, any drama that she comes across, and you guys laugh together about it. "Did you know (name) and (name) just got divorced?! Turns out (name) was a cheating prick!" She gossips to you. you of course match her energy, and be as shocked as her, "I fucking knew it!"

That was your bonding time with her. Yup, gossiping.

She sleeps with her on your chest, and you cuddle her head, and wrap your legs around her.

Her idea of a date is having you on top of her on the couch, as you both binge eat, and watch some horror together.

She is a bit of a scardey cat, when it comes to horror, so often times, her grip tightens on you, and she'll hide her face in your chest. You pause the movie, and comfort her, and change it to comedy, or something.

NSFW:

She's a bit of a switch.

She gets really turned on, when you comfort her in your chest though. Sometimes you think she just does it for the attention, but you don't seem to mind.

"You want me to change it, baby? Yeah?" You say, as you run your fingers through her hair. She nods. "mhm"

she says, and you change the channel immedietly. She flips the two of you, and now she's on top of you. You're now watching a dumb sitcom, and she's peppering your face with kisses.

You giggle at her antics, but don't try to stop her. "Oh, my baby, were you scared?" you coo at her, your legs high above the air, and you caress her face.

"Mhm, so scared." She says to you. She takes your sweater off, admiring the view. She's careful not to crush you with her bionic arm, as she goes down, and licks you nipples, and sucks them, and plays with the other tit with her other hand.

She likes making you moan, the louder the better. When you try to put a pillow over your head, or you try to use your hand to cover your mouth, she's grabbing it away from your mouth, to let you moan freely, and loudly.

"mhm, s-sev! More!" She likes it when you're needy, fucking loves it when you beg. "S-sevi, please!"

She can't say no to you that long, so she gives in almost immedietly, right after she teases the fuck out of you.

She takes your pants off, and sniffs your panties. (Yes, we got ourselves a panty sniffer, but it's okay, it's her, and we love her.)

"Y-you're such a perv!" and with that, she throws your panties somewhere on the floor, and she spreads your legs apart. You moan. She takes a good look at your wet cunt.

She takes a finger, and runs it along your silky folds, "mhmm, se-vika! s-stop teasing!" She smirks at you, and she finally goes down, not giving you a second to process that she's taking a stripe of your cunt. "A-ah, hmm, sev-ika, yo-u fe-el so g-good"

you can barely speak properly.

she eats your pussy like its her last meal on earth, she just hits all the right spots, and you pull her hair a little harder, and moaning louder.

and just like that, you were about to cum. like magic. Her tongue should be kept in bars, for how good it feels, it's unfair.

"s-sevika, I'm cl-ose!" You moan out, your take your hand, and fondle your own tits, while you moan her name "se-sevika!!"

"Cum for me, baby, I want you to come in my mouth" she tells you. It's like a magic word at this point when she tells you to cum for her, you actually do.

"o-oh yes! hmm, fuck!" You throw your head back, your grip on her hair tightening, and you push her deeper, and deeper into your pussy.

You were practically drowning her. But you know this is what she wants. This is what she loves.

After awhile, when you calm down, you pull her up, and lean in for a deep kiss. You can actually taste yourself a bit in her mouth.

When you finally gain the energy, you smirk at her, "Now it's your turn baby~" You say to her, pushing her on to the couch, and make her lay there. You position yourself between her thighs, and you pull per pants off.

You take a whiff of her sex, and she smells absolutely amazing. You take your time with her, your tongue slow, sensual, and you taste every part of her. When she moves around alot, that's when you decide to take your hand, and wrap it around her legs, and hips, to keep her from pushing. She's pulling back, little by little as she gets closer and closer.

You pull her back, practically wrestling her, "You're not going anywhere, Sevi" You say firmly, and get back to what you're eating. She huffs, and whimpers, and she grips your hair tightly, her body stiffening up, and you can feel her grind herself on your tongue, you let her dance for a bit, until she's almost close. You put 2 fingers in her pussy, and pump it fast and hard, in contrast to the slow, and sensual licking of her clit.

She's grinding more and more now, her grip ever so slightly getting harder, and harder. "F-fuck, princess, you're s-so fuck-ing good, mhm, I'm almost there!" She sobs, you smile while eating her out, and maintain eye contact with her, you pull back and slowly finger her, just teasing her a little bit. She whines even more. "Hmm, baby, I want you to look at me when I make you cum. Got that?" She looks at you flustered, and she nods.

You smirk, and you put your mouth back on her, and your fingers pump faster and faster, and there she is trying her best not to throw her head back.

"c'm fr m, bby" You say while you suck and lick her clit.

And with that, her body convulses, her head thrown back, her eyes rolling in the back of her head, and she grinds on your face more, and more. You close your eyes, enjoying the tastes of her juices coming out, your fingers still fast, and your face getting soaked from her squirting cunt.

You pull back, and take your fingers out of her. You lick her clean, not missing a spot, and you make her suck on your fingers, as she pants, she opens her mouth, and suck it clean.

You get up, and get a towel for her, she's still experiencing the aftermath of her orgasm. "Enjoy yourself, baby?" You ask her teasingly with a smile on your face.

She rolls her eyes, and it honestly looks like she's making a sex face at you right now. You chuckle, and cuddle up to her naked, and she giggles at you.

"I love you so fucking much, Sevi." You look up at her, cupping her cheeks with your hand, and you went up to kiss the top of her head.

She's still catching her breath, bit alot calmer now, and she smiles at you. "and I love you, princess. Janna, that mouth of yours, huh?"

You both giggle for the night, and fell asleep just like that.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Okay, so is it obvious I like writing switch Sevika, or not?

This was actually a bit of an emotional roller-coaster to write, but I kind of like it.

#sevika x reader #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika x y/n #sevika smut #arcane fluff #sevika fluff #sevika my love #sevika my wife #arcane smut #wlw smut #smut #fluff #fluff smut #arcane headcanon #sevika headcanon #big mama

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icanseethefuture333 · 13 days ago

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Asteroid Born (13954) 🍏🍎: “Why the apple doesn’t fall so far from the tree 🍄‍🟫”

How you were conceived + Why were you born into this lifetime 🏡♥️🥧

Aries Born / Born in the 1st House:

You are very courageous and bold when it comes to your self expression. Your parents might have considered you as a “busy body” and always had to keep you entertained as an infant. Probably one of those babies who would make funny expressions when they were mad. During pregnancy, your mother could have dealt with a lot of kicking, heartburns, and/or tummy aches. Childbirth as well may have hurt or been difficult due to you having a larger head as a baby (oops!). I see the parents being relatively active during pregnancy, perhaps your parents went to the gym or played sports still. You were born into this world to discover your unique individuality and coming to terms with your identity. Some of you must learn how to embrace all parts of yourself whether that is your physical appearance, sexuality, or personality. Were you raised to feel shame or had to hide some parts of yourself? How can you approach these factors in everyday life? Practicing self validation instead of seeking it from an outside source would be helpful. Focus on establishing a routine of self love and confidence in everyday life, this will attract the most success. Engaging in exercise activities for children such as dodgeball, double dutch, or hopscotch could help you reconnect to your inner child.

Taurus Born / Born in the 2nd house:

Ahhh the spoiled babies. You guys had it all when you were born. Very lavish and comfy childbirth. Your mothers could have gained a lot of weight and ate very yummy foods during pregnancy. Refined palettes with the exception of late snacks and cheeses (I bet these moms would ask people to have a glass of wine for them lol). Your mother could have been feeling very lazy and lethargic, very much so a couch potato. I also see them receiving compliments on how beautiful they look pregnant. I even see the dads gaining weight and getting a dad bod out of support for the mom lol. It is likely you were sensitive to touch when you were born, needing a security blanket or something soft to make you feel safe and protected. Your purpose in life is to understand that money is a wonderful tool but it cannot solve all of your problems. You have to reflect on your values and how you can provide a secure and stable home to yourself. It also important to realize what you are prioritizing in life. Do you have a follow a diet? Are you putting others before your own needs? Do you want to be successful in life but are not implementing healthy habits into your routine? Write a list of goals that you would like to accomplish and figure out methods to make these things come to life, while also keeping your mind stimulated so you won’t fall back in laziness and self sabotaging habits.

Gemini Born / Born in the 3rd House:

Yappers! These babies learned to speak at a few months old. It is likely they were very vocal as infants and could express themselves very easily. Your parents could have had a duality to themselves, which may have resulted in uneasiness or not sure which side of them you were seeing that day. I also interpret this as having parents that switched roles or don’t follow gender stereotypes (E.G: stay at home dad / working mom or having queer parents, etc). You may also have a twin! During pregnancy, your mother could have had many mood swings or experienced a lot of anxiety. I also see this as experiencing butterflies and talking a lot out of nervousness. Their conversations were engaging and interesting. Your parents could have even spoken to you while you were still in your mother’s tummy or played music for you to hear. In this lifetime, you were tasked with developing a community. Some of you are very smart but have difficulty forming connections with others or you are so comfortable speaking your mind that you don’t realize it can come off as blunt at times. Listen, we know you’re intelligent but sometimes you need to hear wisdom from other people in order grow in certain areas. If you have a sibling, you can rely on that bond with them to seek advice, they can help you understand a situation better. Since you have a dynamic personality, you can use your gift to communicate with individuals with different identities.

Cancer Born / Born in the 4th house:

The need to retreat and be at home is a prominent theme here. During pregnancy, your mother could have needed time alone or preferred to stay in the comfort of their home. Your parents could have prioritized privacy and shied away from being around new people besides family members. The childbirth was an intimate and emotional moment for your parents. Your birth could have been at home as well. Whoever was considered family was also in the room when you were born. As an infant you may have needed more physical touch and cried consistently. These babies are likely to be at the hip or maybe even slept in the same room as their parents. There is a strong attachment to your family. In this lifetime you are meant to discover your ancestral lineage and establish a strong connection with relatives. Parenthood could be significant in your life as well if you choose to have children. You are meant to act as a nurturing figure in other people's lives. If you are not close with your family, then it is likely you need to understand what family means to you. Sometimes family can be our friends, pets, or our partner, whichever you decide - there is no right or wrong way to love someone.

Leo Born / Born in the 5th house:

The star of the family. I'm seeing this placement as having social media parents or your mom going viral for pregnancy vlogs. Your birth could have been very talked about or you were adored by family for being popular or cute as a baby. Maybe some of you even did commercials or modeled when you were really young, I also see this apply to your parents. Your parents could have felt even more creative during pregnancy, like maybe your mother painted, sung, or danced more. I also see this as a surprise baby or the way you were conceived was considered a blessing. For some of you, your parents could have been trying for a baby and were so excited to finally have you. There is a lot of focus on joy and celebration. Some of you had parents who threw a gender reveal party or had a big baby shower. You were born into this world to play, I feel that this could be difficult for this placement, since the world can bring us down at times but your energy is whats needed. You need to express yourself and let go of the worries that is holding you back. Have fun, play games, be silly, and just do whatever hobbies that allows you to be be free. I also see that working with children or interacting with the children in your family will increase your happiness. Lastly, take a lighthearted approach to love, enjoy the wonders of romance without the over complications of it.

Virgo Born / Born in the 6th house:

Health was an important factor to your parents when it came to conceiving a child. Perhaps one of your parents was infertile? Or suffered from some kind of illness that made the pregnancy difficult. Your mother could have been more prone to morning sickness such as vomiting or nausea. I also see that they had a routine, they could have had to balance work while also being pregnant. Animals were significant as well. So your parents possibly turned to a pet for comfort or realized they were pregnant because of a pet. For some of you, your mother could have been the type to clean before giving birth. Something about cleaning or being tidy to feel more prepared. As a baby, you could have sneezed a lot or gotten colds. Your immune system was often compromised and this concerned your parents. You could have had your immunization shots early on. This is something your parents were not going to argue about lol. In this lifetime, you need to take care of all aspects of your health - physical, mental, and emotional health. You also need a routine, you can be disorganized at times, and require a set system to keep you on the right track. Also romanticizing the little things would help you appreciate life. You could often overlook what's right in front of you and disregard living in the moment, you have so much abundance right in front of you. Having plants or keeping a pet would help provide a safe space. Also engaging in light exercise, offering to be of service to people, and meditation will ease your anxiety.

Libra Born / Born in the 7th house:

Made with love lol. Your parents were very much so enamored with each other when you were conceived. Its giving "I know their parents high five every time they see what they made". You could have been considered a very beautiful baby or received a lot of compliments from people. Your parents as well had a nice maternity shoot. Your mother was very radiant and glowing, probably had rosy cheeks and everything. You may look to your parents for when you need an example on love and what to look for in relationships. Your parents saw each other as equals or followed traditional roles. Some of you could also have parents who work in law so they could care a lot about appearances and maintaining a good image. It is important that you learn the difference between love and superficial attraction. You are adored by many but because of that adoration it could potentially lead you to not go past a surface level. Share the parts of yourself that is most beautiful, such as your kindness, and fairness towards others. The way you treat people makes them feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Your relationship with others as well as yourself is important to your self development. Working in business or giving back to your support system could give you a new perspective.

Scorpio Born / Born in the 8th house:

This placement has an interesting aura to it. Some of these babies could be an only child or something about the way they were born was transformative. It is possible a family member died before or after you were born, there had to be a loss before you could be conceived. Your mother could have felt that childbirth was traumatic and could of put her in a state of shock, or even dealt with a near death experience. The overall experience of pregnancy was very intense for your parents. It was definite that you would be the last baby to be born because of such factors. You could have also been given an inheritance or were indebted to someone or something. It is possible that you were next in line such as an heir to a family business or lived in a home that passed down for many generations. There might have been paranormal activities when you were born or you were like those babies that would laugh randomly when nothing was there, possibly seeing spirits. Being accepting of change will make things easier in your life. It is likely that you resist transformation due to how deeply you feel your emotions, it can be triggering and exhausting. Try to have a positive outlook on the changes of your life and realize the blessings in the lessons you have experienced. Sex could be a healing factor in your life or it is a way to find pleasure in engaging with your senses.

Sagittarius Born / Born in the 9th house:

It is likely that these babies were born while their parents were traveling or they even could have been adopted. Your mother was likely traveling when she gave birth to you or had to give birth in public. For some of you, your mother was pregnant as she went to college or often went to church. Your parents were very wise and philosophical. There could have been a midwife or doula present during your birth. You may also be of a diverse background, so you may have lived in different places as infant or was exposed to different identities. I also interpret this as possibly having older parents or your parents have an old soul. You are an intelligent person. It is time for you to practice the wisdom in everyday life. You are philosophical, wise, and multi-cultured but you lack in practicing what you preach. You have to be open minded and optimistic when it comes to learning new things. Traveling, reading philosophy, praying to spirit or a deity, or having in depth conversations with people would provide clarity in your life. You need to experience spiritual refreshment in order to continue to feel peace. Study more!!! The answers you seek is in the knowledge that you already have. You are missing out on great opportunities when you choose not to use your resources.

Capricorn Born / Born in the 10th house:

You may come from a prestigious family or they are known for having a reputable reputation. Your parents could work for a well known company and have a higher position. Very business savvy individuals. Your mother could have worked despite being pregnant and had to face discrimination for it, or I see her taking a comfortable maternity leave thanks to the other parent being the financial provider. Your father could be someone who is strict or has high expectations as well. As a baby, you were self sufficient and independent. You did not require as much attentive care as other babies did. Although, this may have affected your attachment style. You could be avoidant when it comes to expressing emotions and when it comes to difficult feelings you focus on work instead. You were meant to be the boss in this lifetime. Your work ethic comes from your genetics. You have the drive and motivation that many people don’t have. It is important that you learn to follow your intuition and realize that you need to also seek what provides emotional fulfillment. You are responsible and dedicated to those around you as well as your career. Make sure to not overly sacrifice your well being for the sake of others. It is okay to take breaks and focus on your own happiness. Being more grounded with reality and your emotions is necessary for your self development and creating discipline.

Aquarius Born / Born in the 11th house:

The way these babies were conceived could be non-traditional. Your parents could have had a one night stand or had sex after only knowing each other for a weeks (or even months). Definitely an unexpected child or you were not planned. Your mother would have weird cravings or eat odd food combinations. Her personality was also deemed as quirky or her behavior seemed peculiar. Your mother also could have dressed differently or had unique maternity clothes. Your parents’ social life could have boomed after having children, making connections with family, or met new friends. Some of you could have parents who are well known on the internet. These babies have the potential of being internet stars or memes. Growing up, you may have felt ostracized and did not feel welcome in most places. Your goal in life is to learn how to rebel again the norm and embrace being unique by tapping into your individuality. Also learning how to make friends or establishing connections with others, even if it seems difficult. You were meant to have a social circle that will be there to teach you wisdom and give you guidance when needed. The longevity of these friendships is not what’s important but the lessons that comes with them. Once you are able to accept yourself and all the perks that comes with it, you will be able to reach better opportunities. Using technology as a tool could assist you with your goals.

Pisces Born / Born in the 12th house:

Childbirth could have been a spiritual experience for your mother. It is likely she already knew she would be pregnant before she even realized. Your parents are very intuitive, they even had dreams about you before you were born. When your mother was pregnant, she felt very emotional and in tune with what you were feeling. I believe these parents would go to Lamaze together or some sort of meditative exercise to make sure that the birth was at least peaceful and safe. Some of you had a water birth or were born near watery places such as the ocean, a pool, etc. A doula or midwife was likely to be present as well. As a child, you were very dreamy and creative. You are very expressive and have a great imagination. You were blessed in this lifetime with psychic abilities or great empathy. You are able to read the room and give people the safe space that they need. Your energy is very comforting and serene. I believe because of your sensitive nature it is likely for you to fall in codependent relationships. It is crucial that you learn to set boundaries and separate fantasy from reality. Take your time to get to know people before you see the “best” in them. You also need to realize you are not a victim but a person who has overcome hardships. Whatever you went through in the past does not apply to you now, you have the freedom of choice, and you get to decide who you want to be. Use your intuition and manifest your goals by connecting with your higher self. Do not allow people, especially partners to “manic pixie dream girl” you.

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