#even if its not what your heart fully agrees with

[solar4seekstron]

Tf1!SG!Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!GN!Reader: Trapped

150 followers special!

TW/Tags: Toxic Relationship, Manipulation, mention of Pregnancy, mild dubcon/noncon, threats, mild cursing, death, couple sex scenes (will be in purple if uncomfortable), OP is loyal but evil, I think that’s all??

Content: Orion pax becomes Optimus Prime and with that power he becomes your Conjunx. You don’t find out his true colors until it’s too late. At least…that’s what you tell yourself.

Note: The reader is basically the same in the regular universe. I just got this idea because I saw some cool art with their SG versions. This fic is pretty dark so please read TW/Tags if you are uncomfortable. I have been cooking this one up for a while so I hope you enjoy! In my stories when the reader is GN! They both have a spike and valve since they’re both genders and genderless. So they can get pregnant and get other gn or femmes pregnant.

You were best friends with the iconic duo. Although D was a bit of a cry baby. You were always so gentle with him. And had to scold Orion when he would make fun of him. You were even used to Orion's flirts and quick remarks towards you. You were like a mix between the two being both strong and kind.

You always had a strong personality and quiet when it came to your actions. You are gentle but tougher than what most people would expect you to be.

Overtime you and D became more like siblings if anything.And Orion mostly kept to himself unless he wanted to hang with you two. Even at times placing both of his cervos on your hips when you two would be talking to each other.

At times when it was just you and Orion. He would always flirt and mak you smile. Even when he got touchy at times. You dint mind. You just wanted him and D to be happy. You did have a bit of a crush on him.

You wont lie. But you didn’t always agree with him and you didn’t really know how to deal with them.

Youre certain he has a good heart and you know he has feelings for you as well. He even started courting you a few days before he disappeared.

He became intimate with you one day when he asked you to go with him to the sign for the Iacon 5000 to just “Hang Out.” You weren’t against it. To finally feel his embrace was wonderful. And he was so gentle. That was the start of his courtship.

And the next day made a promise to you as Disclocure. To always protect you and keep you by his side. His Prefference by showing that he truly sees and treats D as his own brother.

The next day he was to give his devotion as the final part of your courtship….but..After a day though they disappeared…Until that day.

When the events happened you weren’t able to fully know what they were talking about but just their actions told a story…

You didn’t know who to believe and you just tried you best to find out what happened after you had to watch one of your best friends leave with the high guard. You were spark broken. After some time some guards found you as you spoke with the crowed. They took you by force and flew you to the tower that once belong to Sentinel.

Now belonged to the city its new leader Optimus Prime.

As you made your way in you noticed Elita and a blue bot with yellow shades glare at you as they leaved the room. Once you entered you realized it’s just you and Optimus Prime. His back to you. When he turned to you he was holding a data pad and had a grin on his face.

“Ah Y/N my closest friend.” He sat in one of the chairs. “Please come. Have a seat.”

You walked forward and pulled the chair next to him and takes a seat. He watched you with a grin and once you sat down he spoke.

“So old friend. Was worried I’d never see you again.”

His cervo rested on top of yours on the table as he smiled down at you. His optics narrowing down at you as he grinned. You decided to just get to the point.

”Ori-Optimus. What really happened that day. That moment with D…” His grin was soon gone. He then closed his optics for a moment then opened them. His cervo gently squeezing your cervo as he leaned a bit closer.

“He betrayed us. He’s nothing but a traitor to you and me. He wanted to continue to enslave us!”

He lied as he stared down at you. You took in his words and sighed as you turned your cervo to hold his. “I…I just can’t believe it….”

Optimus optics narrowed. “You know, we are no longer slaves to our city. I’ve been thinking.” He then held your cervo then kiss the back of it as his optics stared at you.

”Will you be mine sweetspark? Be a part of my life as I will for yours?” You only stared at him as you looked at your cervo in his… “I…..”

Is this the right call? He’s devoted to you and it shows… almost and he only stared at you. You then descide..

“Yes. I’ll be your Conjunx Optimus.” You gave him your usual gentle smile. He loved that smile. He created for that smile.

He gently pulled you to him. As you stood up he set you on his lap and gently held you. His cervos on your thigh and aft as he still looked down at you as your cervos rest on his shoulders. “Let’s make it official now, shall we sweetspark.” He gently pulled your frame against his.

Both frames now pressed together as your dermas connects. You both stared at each other for moment until you both closed your optics the room was quiet as you both heard nothing but your kisses.

One of your cervos gently holding the side of his helm as his cervo that was once on your aft move to your lower back to keep you pressed against him.

You both two stayed in this moment for a while longer. After what felt like minutes he tried to press his glossa against your dermas asking for access. But before you can accept. The doors opened. You turned to look at the entrance of the doors much to Optimus annoyance.

“What do you want Elita?”

She then speaks of how they need to get started with rebuilding the city. Optimus rolled his optics. Your frame no longer against him as you listened to her. Who just seemed annoyed to even see you right now.

His cervo now resting on your aft once more as his helm rests on his fists as he listens to her. He’d then sit a little straighter as Goldbug walks in and starts to pick a fight with Elita. You were basically sitting on his thigh as your cervos rested on your own lap.

”I should probably go…I’m kinda hungry.” You got off his lap and stood as the two continued to bicker. His cervos gently grabbing your waist and the other your arm.

”Wait hold up sweetspark no need to go. We can both grab some energon together.”

He said softly as he stood up bringing you a bit closer as he stared down at you. You only looked up at him with an unsure expression. “Optimus you are a leader now. I’ll bring you some treats on my outing, alright?” you leaned up and gently kisses his dermas as his expression seemed more annoyed.

You then walked off as he stared at you. Passing by the two and walking through the door.

———————————————————————————

After some time you returned through the doors to the meeting room. You knew he was in there thanks to the guards letting you know. When you walked in you didn’t see Elita or goldbug. And Optimus was speaking tp a few other high councils that you knew who were once miners.

They were speaking and when you peaked through the door. They seemed to still be busy and slowly closed the door.

You noticed Elita and Goldbug weren’t there. You were then told by one of the guards that you and Optimus have your own sleeping quarters. He led you there and told you by orders you must wait there. And so you did. Looking out the window. “I hope his meeting is going alright..”

After a few hours. The door finally opened. You head down the stairs in the apartment as Optimus walk in. Locking the door behind him as he walked past the kitchen area and living room. As you got down stairs you treated him with snacks you got when on your day out. He seemed out of it. “Would you like to lay down. You look exhausted.”

He only stared down at you and slowly nodded a small smile on his dermas. And so you both walked up stared to your shared room. You held his cervo as all he looked at was your aftas you walked unaware.

Once in your shared room, he’d gently picked you up like a bride as he walks to the berth. As you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently kiss his helm.

You heard him chuckle as he lays you on the berth. Him ontop with one cervo on the bed to support him as the other gently rubs the side of your waist. Your cervos holding the side of his helm and pulled him down to you and kiss him. The kiss a lot more hungry as he let out a moan against your dermas. He has been waiting to do this all day. You could tell just by the way he pressed his panel against yours as he thrust against it a few times. His cervos around yours waist lifting you up. Your arms around his neck.

You accepted when he pressed his glossa against your dermas. Accepting the kiss only became more hungry.

As his panel rubbed more against yours as he growled in the kiss, you finally finished teasing him and opened you panel.

He was quick to open his. His spike large and- pretty girthy. He wasn’t too gentle though. Shoving his spike into you without preparing. This caused you to moan and groan loudly against the kiss for a moment in mostly pain then pleasure.

He left his spike in there as you adjust to his size. Your legs shaking as he placed gentle kisses on your neck cables and shoulder.

His cervos holding your hips up against his own. His knees on the berth now as your arms remain around his neck. It took you some time as tears run down your cheeks from your optics. He gently kissed your tears away and he whispered to you.

”Breath sweetspark. It’s alright…” He whispered.

After a few moments you slowly nodded to him and he began to thrust into your valve. Slowly pulling out at first then pushing back in.

This causing you to continue moaning. His dermas against the front of your neck, gently sucking on the sensitive cables. You can feel his grunts and moans against your neck.

Even the berth moving with your body as he thrusted. each one fast and rough.

This continued on for what felt like hours. He mustve overloaded in you at least four times now. You loaded at least 7 times.

And you were becoming exhausted. You tried to speak saying you were exhausted for the past few minutes but your moans always got in the way.

Until you finally was able to say “Stop”. He did so. He looked at you. Seeming like he was barely not out of breath. So you looked at him with tired optics. “You have showed…Your devotion…” He stared at you and chuckled.

”Ready to bond Sweetspark?” You slowly nodded, his spike still in your valve as his load slowly leaked out.

He gently kissed your forhelm as you closed your optics. You chest slowly opening which you weren’t sure why it did. His spark then opened a lot faster and you were hit with a pleasurable feeling.

Both of your sparks dancing together as a bond begins for you both.

After a moment your both are bonded. You two stared at each other as you continue to catch your breath. He only looked down at you with loving optics and gently lifted you against his frame.

Then laying you on the berth closer to the window. As he lays on the other side. Your legs were closed and still shaking a little.

Your frame over heated as your helm turned to him. He was smiling as his cervo gently rubbed your other arm. Your other cervo against his chest as he used his other arm to support himself “You did so good sweetspark.”

He’d give you a gentle kiss as he sat up and grabbed a towel and started to clean you up gently. Being a true gentlemen. After he slowly cuddled you. You were on your side facing the window as he came behind you also laying on his side.

His arm wrapped around your waist as his front frame is against your back and aft. As his legs pressed against yours.

You turned your helm a bit to look at him. He leaned his hel forward to be able to kiss your dermas as a good night kiss. You both then lay your helm down and fall asleep as you both closed your optics. Though….it took you some time to fall asleep yourself. Not to mention his grip around you was pretty….firm.

———————————————————————————

In the morning as the sun started to rise. The window was the cause for the sun to hit you first. Your optics slowly opening and as you slowly sat up.

Your valve and thighs were very sore. As you sat up, you noticed Optimus was on his back still asleep. But his cervo was resting on the side of your hip. As you sat up you moved his cervo to your lap.

Using your body to keep the sun from hitting his optics as you sat up. Using your arm above his helm as support as you leaned down to kiss his forhelm. You’re sure because of you moving caused him to wake up.

He grumbled a bit, his optics stilled closed as his cervo that was icloser to you was now under you. It now resting and holding your waist as you kissed his helm. Your cervo that wasn’t supporting you up now on his cervo that’s on your lap.

His optics slowly opened as he stared up at you. “There’s a view id like to wake up to every day”

You chuckled. “Good Morning to you too.” Both of your dermas connect. Both closing your optics. As his cervo that was once under yours moved to the side of your helm, his other one on your waist was pulling you closer. Until you stopped him.

”Why don’t I fix us some breakfast before our day start, yeah?” You gave him your usual soft smile. He held back a groan and just nodded. Giving to a half smile as you got up. Out of his grasp. He sat up, moving his cervo up to protect his eyes from the suns light as he watched you make your way to downstairs.

He’d then get a comm by Ratchet. He soon had a frown on his face.

You made it downstairs and started to get some energon ready for the both of you on some nice plates in the room. As you sat the plates on the table and sat down. Optimus came down and seemed annoyed.

“I have another damn meeting with the new council.”

You stood up and walked closer to him. “You should eat before your meeting sweetspark.” You hand him his plate. He only stared down at you with a bit of a frown before closing his optics for a moment. Then gives that same fake smiles as he leaned down and kissed the top of your helm. Gently taking the plate and sits down as he eats. You watched himm. Noticing the change in him. You summed it up to the council and meeting he has coming. You just picked up a data pad on a shelf and started scrolling through it as you stood there. Your back to him.

He noticed and finished his food. Then walking to behind you and looked over your shoulder. His helm a bit closer to you. “And what are you doing sweetspark?” He glanced down at you as you payed not much mind to him. using your gig it to scroll through a page as you spoke.

”I’m just looking for any opened jobs. I should do my part for the city sweetspark. I cant be just the Leader of Iacon cities Conjunx.”

You speak with optimism. A gently smile gracing your dermas.

Little do you know his optics are dark as he stared at you. Until his cervo rests on our hip. The grip firm as this caught your attention. His other cervo grabbing the data pad as he moved it behind him as he stared down at you. You turned to look at him with confused optics.

“Optimus I need that.”

”No..you don’t..I descided. You can join me. My personal assistant as that you are with me. How about that?” You chuckled. “We’ll get bored of each other. And besides I wish to help others. So why not out of the tower.”

He sighed and his other cervo once on your hip moved to hold your chin. “Please…I already lost my bestfriend…..I just want what I have left with me….Please?”

His optics were almost… sincere. You weren’t sure how to respond. You just looked down as he put the data pad down. Little did you know he had a grin on his dermas as he stared down at you. “Just come with me. I’m sure we can find a job for you sweetspark. Now be a good Conjunx and join me. Hm?”

His digit gently held your chin as he then kissed your cheek. You let out a small hum and looked at him. “Sure…why not sweetspark.” He chuckled

“Good Conjunx.” He takes your cervo and you both walk out of the room. As you made it to the meeting room.

———————————————————————————

There were other Cybertronians speaking amongst their self. Optimus walked forward as you stay close behind. As he made his way to his chair, you follow behind and notice some of the femmes and mechs look at you as you stand next to Optimus once e takes his seat.

”Alright. Let the meeting commence.” You stayed next to him with a few data pads in your arms for him. The others sitting down. You noticed one of the femmes making ‘eyes’ to Optimus. You had to remind yourself that Optimus is Loyal. Isn’t he?

Your spark implied a bit of pressure. Something he can feel through the bond. And out of no where. The bond from him sent a wave of annoyance and warmth. He moved his cervo back toawrds your gently holding the one that isnt holding all the data pads in your arm.

He kissed the back of your cervo, you noticed the femme looked annoyed and glared at you as he glanced at the femme with very dark eyes.

He did not like this femme making you sad.

You continue to just look at the statues of the former primes around you as he spoke during the meeting. Your cervo still in his larger one as it continues to hold yours. His digit gently rubbing the back of your cervo.

You’d keep a few of the data pads with one arm. As the meeting continues on, some of the mechs looked at you. You ignored them. But you could feel through the bond that Optimus was getting annoyed by the meeting still going on.

Eventually the meeting soon ends and as the bots left and you watched them exit the door.

You felt Optimus cervo gently pull you closer as he stayed in his seat. He took the data pads and set them on the table far from him.

He then sets you on the table in front of him even scooting closer as he spoke.

As he spoke he wrapped his arms around your waist as he looked up at you with hungry optics. Having his usual devious grin as he sets his chin on your chest as you looked down at him. You had a shy smile on your dermas.

“Now sweetspark. I believ with you as my assistant it can give a better chance for me and you to grow….closer as Conjunx. If you be a good Conjunx. I’ll be sure you’re always treated as a Queen.”

”Queen?” You chuckled

”Well you are the wife of the relationship my dear.” He kisses your chest and waist as his cervo gripped the side of your waist and pulled it a bit closer against his dermas and his other cervo rested on your thigh. That cervo then moved to your panel.

You chuckled as you cervo gently rubs the top as his held as the other rests against the table.

“Sweetspark if I’m the wife. Does that mean I will the soul carrier for a future sparkling?” He stops for a moment. His optics soft as he thought for a moment as his body moved up in his chair getting closer.

His chest against your waist as his chin rests on your chest.

”Yes….Our sparkling. My successor.” His dark optics look up at you. You almost felt fear. Something telling you to stop at the back of your head. He’d then gently pat your panel.

”Let me see that lovely spike of yours my love?”

”Optimus we really shouldn’t do this in here. We’re disrespecting the primes aren’t we?” He forcefully opened your panel. Showing your valve and then spike. You shivered at the cold air.

He starts to gently stroke your spike. Having a firm grip and squeezing rather tightly. Your legs slowly shaking as he licked at the tip. You were a bit smaller then him and not as thick. But you can stretch a valve pretty well.

Your hips almost thrusts forward a few times. He chuckled as he continued. Your cervo grabbing the one still stroking your spike. As your other cervo covers over your intake. Trying to hide your moans.

“O-Optimus please we shouldn’t-“

“I will please my Conjunx. Will you so rid me of that?” His helm leaned down to the tip and gently licked at the tip. This made it harder to not thrust forward as you stared down at him…

You couldn’t stop him for a good while…��

….You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there. But your cervos gripped his helm as he deep throated your spike in his intake. You came in his throat a couple times now. A few small moans escaping your dermas a few times. Your legs shaking as both of his cervos held firmly under your thighs.

Once you loaded for the third time. He finally pulled your spike from his intake even licking at the tip. Then licking his dermas as he stared up at you. “W-Why did you..-“

“The only good thing of use this spike will have is for me to pleasure you. And your valve is for you to pleasure more.” He gently rubbed the lips of your valve making you shudder. “Now then….be a good bot and sit on your Conjunx lap as the next meeting commences hm?”

He sat against his chair once more. Holding his cervo out to you to take it. You were hesitient at first as your cervo reached out for his. But when he noticed you were holding back he was quick to grab it and pull you onto his lap. His chuckle was deep as his cervos firmly grab your arm and upper thigh.

“You were so good for me.. Now how about we enjoy some time before lunch. I don’t have another meeting for a while my dear.”

He kisses you once more. You took a moment to return the kiss. You had a horrible feeling in your stomach…You told yourself it was hunger. He noticed. His hands gripping tightly to you as a sort of warning.

You both kissed for a moment longer and all that’s heard in the room was your kisses and moans. He’d then stop and stood up holding you and gently sets you down. “Now there’s a really nice restaurant I wish to take you to sweetspark.” You could only nod. As he walks with your cervo in his.

——————————————————————————

Once at the restaurant he was often stopped and asked mid sentence about himself and more now that he was the leader of the city. You only looked at the menu as many people continue to talk to him.

You noticed even as femmes and mechs flirt with him in front of you, he’d always shut them down rudely and glance at you as your looked down as you only feel nervousness.

He didn’t like feeling that through the bond. His side of the bond made you stop that and to be good. You sighed as told the waiter what you wanted. He then asked for the fans to be taken out so that he can eat.

After that the rest of the day went by before you knew it. He’d often pul you closer to him by your waist when walking around. In and out of the tower. You’d always notice femmes, mechs, and neutral bots either give you stink eye or admiration of lust or affections. You still don’t know how to feel about it.

He’d go around, with you with him as he makes speeches and promises. Even going to some charities. Although some of his actions seemed forced. This took all day and before you knew it. It was night.

Once at the tower and back in the meeting room after stopping by a few of the rooms to see what Goldbug and Elita were working you. You noticed they had a few dents in them. Something that made your body shiver as you felt Optimus larger cervo on your waist.

Keeping you close. Once you made your way to the meeting room he took his spot in the sweet. He seemed tired but willing based on how tired his optics appeared.

As he sat he rested the side of his helm on his fist as his other cervo rests on the arm of the chair.

You stand next to his chair as you looked over the updated data pads as he glanced at you. “Sweetspark. Why don’t you take the seat next to me. No one else took it in our meeting before.”

You’d slowly nodded and sat in the seat he told you. He’d then brings you closer by the chair and rests his cervo on your lap as his other cervo holds a data pad. As the others came in the one femme who made eyes at Optimus before glared at you. She then took as seat next to Ratchet. Who descided to sit next to you. You didn’t mind as much. As the meeting continue Optimus kept his cervo on your thigh. Gently squeezing it so often. God do you feel trapped. Ratchet would speak to most with Optimus as the others listened. You’d then notice he seemed annoyed. Even feeling it through the spark bond.

Once the meeting was over you watched as Optimus moved his cervo that once held a data pad go to his face as his digits held the bridge of his nose.

Your cervos moved from the table to the top of his still ontop of your thigh. You then noticed how late it was and stood up. Gently holding Optimus chin with your digits making him look at you.

He watched you as you leaned forward and kisses him gently. “Let’s go to bed sweetspark. You earned it.”

You said as you took his cervo and started walking to the other door to your shared room.. He was quick to stand up and walk with you. Liking the view of you taking a small lead. Not noticing how Moonracer was watching and waited by the door.

As you both made it to your room, you tried your best to not slap his cervo away when he set it on your aft.

You turned around to face him and he was quick to pick you up. Placing your legs around his waist as you wrapped his arms around his neck on your own. Your kiss was soon hungry and passionate as he made his wa the sofa and had you laid down. Having one leg on the couch as he kept kissing you. His panel against yours. Gently humping against it as he whispered between kisses and moans “I love you.”

That’s until you’re interrupted by a knock at the door. He groans and sat down between your legs. Rolling his optics. “It’s probably something important Optimus.”

You sat up as he only looked more pissed off. You then set your cervos on his chest as you looked up at him with a smile. Trying to calm him down. You’d then stand up to go answer until he stopped you.

“Just sit here and look beautiful sweetspark.” He said with a smile and gave you a small kiss.

As he walked to the door he had a huge frown on his face. But he didn’t let you see it.

Once he answered the door it was Moonracer. She instantly started flirting with him. Telling him how she’s been watching him. How she’ll be a loyal bitch and all that. Even a good Conjunx. You could only watch as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

He only watched her with an unamused expression. She’s then trying to pull him down closer to her as she tried to kiss him.

You stood from the couch as you made your way, about to speak that she needs the cut that out. Yes you were angry. You are his Conjunx after all.

But when you were about to speak, Optimus noticed you. And raised a cervo to stop you. Only turning his body a bit to look at you. She then looked at you.

”What are you doing here you Bi-“ Before she could finish. She’s then blasted on the side of the face.

Her head completely off as her body falls to the direction the same as when her head was shouted at.

You…were frozen…Even backing up.

”Ugh you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fo that. Just to shoot her from across the table.” He groaned as he turned to you. You could only fall onto your aft as you looked at him with wide optics. “Oh come now sweetspark don’t be scared. The others can clean this up in the morning.”

He put his canon away and kicked the body out of his way.

He walked to you. Even as you backed up he still grabbed your cervos and pulled you against him. He had a large and….terrifying grin on his dermas as he stared down at you. “Let’s go lay down…” He pulled you closer. “Shall we?” His optics glowed.

———————————————————————————

You were sitting on the berth. Your back against the wall as you stared out the window. Optimus was laying on his back His helm on your lap as he looked up at you with a…..’smile’.

You only had an uncertain frown on your lips as you kept looking out the window. Seeing the city lights as many Bo’s still flying around late.

Your cervos gently holding the side of his helm as his cervos hold the side of your thighs. He was loving his spot. After was felt like almost an hour he sat up. You kept looking out the window.

He was on his knees. His cervos grabbing your arm on both sides and pulled you close onto his lap.

”You love me…Don’t you my dear?”

He stared down at you as his cervo held your chin to make you look at him. Your optics were narrowed and tired. You didn’t know how to feel. His optics….They were a mix of love….lust…and hate. He was so possessive and……a killer….

Your intake slowly opens and….aganist your better judgement…you know he can hurt you..and so..

”Optimus…I love you.”

His smile only grew. As he leaned down and connected his dermas with yours and closed his optics, the kiss passionate. You were quick to return the kiss. Your cervos resting on his chest. Closing your optics as you both stay together as so. For a little while longer….but dread rests in your spark…for a moment longer…..

Primus….what have you done?…

This one I have been working on for a good while. I hope you guys enjoyed this and can’t wait to see the comments after. As always a repost is appreciated and hope to see you all in the next post. Hope you all have a good rest of your day!

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. zayne is quite the early bird and loves to appreciate the sight of your sleeping self next to him. he might even tease you a bit.

wc. 1.2k

note. first love and deepspace fic, kinda nervous. lmk what you think of my characterisation of zayne.

tags. zayne x female reader. fluff. just zayne being a secret softie for you. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, dear / pretty, beautiful’.

it’s early. way too early for your body to properly function. the birds haven’t chirped yet and neither has the sun shown itself—it’s early, but zayne is up. he couldn’t fall back asleep once he had awoken and thus decided to stay up.

“hah, sleepyhead,” zayne comments through a deep sigh. he’s laying on his side, facing you. his eyes are completely focused on your appearance; from your messy bed hair to the drop of drool forming at the corner of your mouth. it’s all rather endearing.

your boyfriend reaches a scarred hand towards you, though is quick to retract it after some hesitation. he does not want to interrupt your slumber. you need your rest; especially after your hard shift as a hunter the day before.

and because you finally decided to follow his advice as your primary care physician. sleep is important for your health.

zayne’s protective instincts are begging him to embrace you—to protect you against the cold. you just look so vulnerable next to him.

though, his heart doesn’t agree. there are risks to such an action; you waking up this early and not getting your recommended seven hours of sleep is one of them. he decides not to do anything. . . for now.

zayne checks his phone to kill some time. no missed calls nor texts. it’s unusual for the surgeon to not be bombarded with calls and such, though it’s a pleasant change of pace.

his eyes dart back to your face again. no matter how many times he tries to distract himself from you, his focus always finds its way back to you. it’s like he’s subconsciously checking to see if you’re up or not.

zayne wishes to witness your face as it lights up the moment you lock eyes. to see your adorable smile that makes his heart flutter. to hold you close, cuddle with you and kiss you.

“mph,” a sudden yawn from your mouth interrupts zayne’s train of thoughts. you stretch your arms and move to lay on your back, however your eyes stay closed. you look even more adorable like that—with your hair even messier.

your lover can’t help himself like this. a slender finger reaches out to your lips, gathering the small droplet of drool at the corner. zayne’s neutral expression remains, but his eyes subtly soften once he gets to touch your skin.

“what a messy girl,” zayne mumbles to himself. he nearly makes himself chuckle, however is quick enough to bite back that short laugh. he takes his chance and subtly traces the shape of your bottom lip.

there’s no going back now that he’s touched you. his attention is now fully on you and you only.

zayne is too busy tracing your facial features to notice that you’re starting to wake up. your eyes flutter open and - to your surprise - you find your lover’s face hovering above yours.

you feel the pad of his thumb on one of your cheeks, his index and middle finger holding the other. he gently squeezes your cheeks together so that your lips form a pout. it’s secretly his favorite thing to do—makes you look silly.

“zayne?” you whisper in a groggy voice.

zayne lightly jolts in place and takes his hand away. he clears his throat awkwardly; his gaze darting back and forth between the objects in your bedroom. he purposely avoids all eye contact while maintaining a stoic expression. as if he wasn’t just caught admiring you.

“oh, you’re awake,” your lover mutters. he attempts to change topics by looking at the digital clock on your nightstand, “it’s still too early. you should go back to sleep, dear.”

you still feel flustered whenever he refers to you as ‘dear’ or any other affectionate nickname. your relationship has come so far and it warms your heart. you grin and reach your hand out to place it on zayne’s jawline.

“mm, what were you doing when i was asleep?” you ask in a teasing tone. your fingers trace his jaw gently, trailing down his neck. it makes the dark-haired man gulp lightly. there’s not much left of his self control.

zayne allows you to lead his face back to yours. the tender touch he missed so much—your warm palm meeting his cold skin—it drives him insane. he sighs, though does not admit the truth, “nothing much. just checking my schedule for the day and such.”

that gains him a playful scoff from your side. you know that’s a lie just by the memory you have of his face hovering above yours from earlier. he was admiring you. you poke the tip of his nose, “riiiight, then why were you staring at me so lovingly? touching my lips so delicately?”

you giggle as you recall that faint softness in zayne’s eyes when you caught him admiring the view of you. his fingertips treated your skin with such care. maybe you should’ve pretended to be asleep and see how things would have played out.

“ah, you see,” zayne replies in a low tone, his hand moving once more to tap at the corners of your lips. you could’ve sworn that there’s a faint grin on his face as he continues, “it’s hard to ignore the sight of you when you’re drooling all over yourself in your sleep.”

that shuts you up. you immediately try to wipe away any leftover drool from your lips. your hands work quick, but you don’t find anything to wipe off, “l-liar. i’m not drooling, thank you very much.”

zayne shakes his head with a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair. he leans in and his breath on the skin of your cheek sends shivers down your spine.

“because i got rid of it all before you woke up, sweetheart,” he mutters lowly and lets his lips graze against your cheek, “i was kind enough to help my messy little girlfriend out and save her from the embarrassment.”

you sputter an incomprehensible excuse, but fail at defending yourself from that. you know zayne is a pro at teasing when he’s in a good mood. you’re absolutely no match to him. you huff and eventually give in, “whatever.”

zayne knows he won that one. he only jokes around with you like that in hopes to seeing your adorable ‘angry’ face. that frown and pout on your face makes you look all the more pretty to him.

he sighs and spoons you—arms cradling you to his chest from behind once you turn your back to him. neither of you complain about your current position. there’s a yawn coming out of your mouth again;

“go back to sleep, i’ll be here.” zayne whispers to you and you nod.

before you close your eyes, you turn your head and stare at zayne. he gazes back down at you and that tender look in his eyes makes its appearance once more. that look which is reserved for you.

“promise me you’ll sleep too,” you mumble. your lover stays silent for a couple seconds, not knowing whether he can promise you that or not. though after seeing your little pout again, he can’t help but give in.

zayne leans in and places a reassuring kiss on your forehead, “i promise. i will.”

[the-californicationist]

The Old Way

Listen... I don't even know what I'm on with this. Just... don't judge me. Omfg what is wrong with me.

AO3 Link -- TW: omegaverse wildness, biting, blood, etc.

Your people are starving, and your clan's Alpha has asked you, their only remaining Omega, to give yourself up as a sacrifice to save them. So, you agree, and you are to be mated to one of the Alphas of Clan 141, praying that it is to any of them except Alpha Price. He is known to have a knot that is impossible to take, but when you finally meet him, you're not sure of what's possible anymore. Will you risk it all to be with him, even if his knot might kill you? One way to find out…

The Old Way

You couldn’t see the stars. The shroud that hung over your head was made from fine, black silk, and through its thin organza, you could barely make out the shape of the Watcher in front of you, much less the glittering galactic expanse overhead. You were wrapped like a gift, and if you wanted to save the lives of everyone you’d ever loved, you would remain cloaked in your darkness, hidden, waiting for your big moment. More than anything, you wanted to pull your veil away from your eyes just to see the familiar constellations again, to comfort yourself with their shapes, to make one last independent choice before all of your volition was stolen from you forever. 

That wasn’t the right word. You couldn’t steal something that was given freely. You were not bound, and you were certainly not forced to wear the shadowed veil against your will. You had selected this path for yourself, and now you were living through the consequences of that decision.

As the only Omega in your clan – the first one born in seventy years – you were raised on the knowledge that you may one day be asked to give up your life for your clan. After the war, life was hard, and now that your people were stuck in a seemingly endless drought, it had become even more desperate. Your clan leader, Alpha Roan, had come to you six weeks ago with a terrible look in his eyes, a palpable guilt, still wearing his mourning collar for his long-lost mate, Omega Kiran, and he had asked you if you would be willing to undergo The Exchange.

His own wife had come to your clan through The Exchange, and although they had chosen to perform a private ceremony, you knew that it had been a challenge for her. Before she died, she had taught you much about your role, but you were still a youngling, and some things were just not for you to hear at such an age. 

You thought about the years that had passed after the loss of your clan’s Omega. Alpha Roan had insisted on your education, and your training, but the idea that you would be asked to leave your clan through The Exchange was always a distant threat. But, now, here it was. You had been called by your Alpha to sacrifice yourself for their benefit; not in a marriage of love, but in a clan trade. 

You had been asked by your Alpha to think about your choice. After he left you to ponder your choice, you sat down in your chambers surrounded by your Watchers, the women who had raised you, who had taught you to read, to write, to fight, and to charm. They looked at you with the same guilty, knowing eyes, and they asked you if you were prepared to make the sacrifice. 

“You do know what awaits you at the end of The Exchange, don’t you, Omega?” Watcher Trinity had asked you quietly, holding your hands in her shaking fingers, the wrinkled skin of her knuckles folding and stretching over her thin bones. 

You nodded, “Yes, Watcher. I am to be given to a new Alpha.”

She had looked at you then, her eyes sharp and calculating, trying to figure out how she would ask her next question.   

“Do you know the way in which you will be given, Omega?” 

Her tone chilled your heart, sinking through your body like ice across a pond, freezing you in place. You waited. There was more that she needed to say, and you allowed her to explain. 

And now that you knew the truth, you felt fully prepared to accept the terms of the agreement. You would deliver your people from their strife, and any pain, any shame, and any horror that you experienced from this point onward would be in service to your clan. You hoped that would be enough solace to sustain you. There was no shame in your sacrifice, you knew that. But, in your soul, you knew that knowing a thing and experiencing a thing were two vastly disparate sides of the same coin. 

You informed your clan Alpha, holding your chin high, 

“I accept the terms of The Exchange, Alpha Roan.”

“Your people are forever in your debt, Omega. Watchers,” he addressed your caregivers, “Please make preparations in the old way of our clan.”

“The old way, Alpha Roan?” Watcher Trinity had asked, her voice giving away her apprehension.

“Yes, Watcher. We will follow the law, no matter how… upsetting it may be. Clan 141 is too powerful for us to take any undue risks. If they do not accept her, we may not survive their engagement.”

Even in your sheltered little academy, you had heard of Clan 141. Their clan was small, but it was deeply feared. If any other clan dared step out of line, the 141 were there to rain hellfire and destruction down on them until there was nothing left. They were not cruel, but they abided no violent acts in their territory, and any whisper of rekindling the war efforts or of superseding the peace treaty was dealt with swiftly and decisively. 

Before the war, kings and presidents and generals had pulled the strings. Now that the world lay in ruins, the 141 was the only thing between your small clan and total destruction from larger, more aggressive packs. The 141 was the only reason your people still had other clans to trade with; they had made sure smaller communities had access to fair market costs for food and services, and no one dared to shun your merchants now that you were under their protective wing. 

Your Watchers had done their best to ease you into your preparations. Clan 141 would be at the neutral ground in six weeks, and your team had tried to make every moment of that window meaningful in your training. They had started slowly, teaching you to stretch your untouched hole with your fingers, showing you diagrams and depictions of your own anatomy, warning you of the physical trial of taking an Alpha’s knot. 

It was mortifying when you endured your first test. Watcher Gillar and Watcher Bhin had made you sit in front of a mirror and show them your progress. You were told to clench and release the muscles of your hole on command, fluttering it to prove its strength. Then, they had produced a carved, glass phallus, expecting you to practice on a smaller model before moving you up to a more advanced size. 

You took it from their hands, looking at its curved, rigid shape with wide-eyed curiosity, trying to swallow your grief at being seen doing the unthinkable by people you considered to be your closest friends and caregivers. It almost made you regret your decision. But, your people needed you, so you rested the smooth tip of the phallus at the entrance of your hole and began to shove it inside of yourself. 

This new feeling was overwriting your mind, so alien and yet so very comforting to you, confounding in its sensations yet overwhelming in its unique, bright pleasure.

It was a struggle, but you managed to slip it into your body almost down to the large, bulbous knot on the end. The sharp pain of being entered for the first time was not as terrible as you had feared, but when you pulled the phallic rod back out of you, it was cloudy with your slick and your blood. 

“Try the knot, Omega. Your Alpha will be twice as large as this, at least. You do not want your first experience to be at the ceremony. I know that you will want to appear strong in front of the other clans.” Watcher Bhin encouraged you, holding you to her shoulder as she sat behind you, trying her best to comfort you through such a harrowing ordeal. 

You put their practice cock back inside of you, slipping down further than you had, feeling the wide anatomy pressing against your entrance, but still unable to take the full knot inside. You pushed and pulled with your muscles, just like your Watchers had taught you, but it wouldn’t budge. You were panting, sweating, and teetering on the edge of an embarrassing orgasm in front of your Watchers, and you gasped out, exasperated, 

“I can’t. I don’t think I can do this, Watcher.”

“Lay back, Omega. I will help you,” Watcher Gillar said softly, replacing your hand with hers at the base of the phallus. 

You lay down on your back against your soft pillows, trying to avoid your Watchers’ pitying eyes. Then, you felt a cool gel being applied around the sore ring of your hole; something to ease the way since there was no true Alpha present to coax your slick from your glands. Watcher Bhin had held your hand in hers, gripping you tightly, letting you squeeze her through the pain, wiping away your tears as the glass bulb of the pretend knot began to split you, stretching your body before finally popping into place.

You Watchers had comforted you for a few minutes, but then you were told to begin your meditations.

With much difficulty, you sat up, feeling the heavy knot nestled against your walls. Then, Watcher Bhin handed you a firm pillow, and you understood that you must straddle it, and that it would push the knot against you. You were to train your body and your mind to accept it so that you would have the stamina to withstand the ceremony. 

“Do not be afraid to listen to your body, Omega. We will return to help you remove it and recover. I will light some incense for you. Concentrate on your strength.”

You nodded, uncrossing your legs and settling yourself over the firm pillow, feeling the deep, sacral grind of the phallus as you set your weight against it. When you were left alone, you began your breathing techniques, but all the while, a flush was rushing across your skin, the shadow of a rising desire to come, and yet subtly different. Something whispered in your mind, and you wondered if you could call your slick down yourself, without an Alpha’s help. 

So, you tried, rocking back and forth across the pillow, churning the knot within your core, feeling the rounded tip rubbing against your deepest parts. You removed your robes, letting the flush keep you warm, watching yourself in the tall mirror, meeting your own eyes. 

It took only minutes before a true orgasm was upon you, but you tried to hold it at bay, searching through the sparkling, cracking fog of pleasure for the part of you that made you special. No Beta would survive a knotting; they never did, and it was a crime to even try. But, you were meant for it, and you knew that your Watchers’ training would not let you down. You breathed through the bliss, reaching out with your mind towards your slick, imagining it, visualizing your success, manifesting it deep within you. 

When the Watchers found you later that night, they woke you with cool rags and worried faces,

“What happened, Omega? How did you…” Watcher Gillar looked down at your bare legs to where the pillow sat under you, seeing a torrent of slick and milky come covering your skin and the silk of the bolster, confused by how you could produce it without an Alpha’s beckoning call. It was just not done, not even considered to be a possibility. 

After that night, there was much chatter amongst the Watchers. They consulted old tomes, dusting off the pages in the library of your little academy where you trained far away from the rest of your village, kept up here in your tower like a Delphic oracle, buried like a treasure. 

The training became more intense, and each practice phallus that your Watchers produced became harder and heavier, each bearing knots that were unfathomably large. You used your newfound power to face each of your challenges, less ashamed now to perform in front of your team, but knowing that the ceremony would be something else entirely. 

You had asked about it one night as your Watchers were helping you bathe after a particularly difficult practice session, 

“Will there truly be none absent from the ceremony, Watcher Trinity?”

“Only the cubs and their mothers are forbidden from attending. Otherwise, all clan members are obligated to witness The Exchange. We will even invite Clan Farlight and Clan Seres to the feast as a token of goodwill. You know this, Omega,” her tone was a little impatient, wondering why you were asking such a basic question, “Your Alpha has asked for your ceremony to be conducted in the old way, according to the original scrolls.” 

“I am worried that I will dishonor you with my abilities. I cannot seem to take even these false knots without tears,” you repeated the old scripture, chanting it rote to your Watcher just as you used to do when you had started your adult training, “Omegas are vessels. They will silently submit. The ceremony will be still, honoring the sacrifice.”

Watcher Trinity knelt down beside your bath and made you look at her. Her eyes softened, and she told you,

“Yes, that is what is written, but it is not that simple. You have already honored us with your sacrifice. We have no grain. We have skinny, milkless goats, and our well is nearly dry. When we feast after your ceremony, the full bellies of your people will mean so much more than any perceived weakness that you are reluctant to show.” She grabbed your hand out of the warm water, holding it in hers, “If you need to cry, we will understand, and we will be comforting you from the crowd. Trust me, Omega.”

You tried to put it all out of your mind as you marched down the path, following behind your Watchers as they surrounded you, adorned in their own ceremonial garb. They had worn their armor and their long, red robes, carrying huge, black scythes like walking sticks, as was the custom of your clan. Your Alpha was walking in the front of your pack, guiding your clan to the meeting point. You could just see the white, canvas tops of the tents and yurts that had been constructed for the ceremony, meant to house hundreds of people for at least three days. Yours was the biggest, its adornment the most splendid. But that was little comfort to your frayed nerves. 

You were miles from home at this point, missing the comfort of your room and your books, knowing that you would never return there, and that perhaps your new Alpha would not allow you to keep any of your belongings from your old life. 

You’d heard horror stories from some of the Betas in your clan, tales of Alphas who used their Omegas like slaves, keeping them clad in irons, surviving in dark dungeons only to be used to breed and to give their Alphas carnal pleasure. 

While you were being prepared for this journey, a pair of Beta women had helped you paint your skin, drawing intricate symbols and prayers in gold flake, chittering about the ceremony and the feast without knowing what you had been through over the past six weeks.

“This is the first time I will witness a ceremony done in the old way,” Beta Lilia said. 

“Do you know which Alpha will claim you?” Lilia’s friend, Beta Tyran, asked you, not knowing how loaded her words were.

You shook your head; you didn’t even know how many Alphas belonged to Clan 141. Lilia gushed about them for you, taking the conversation out of your hands,

“Clan 141 has four Alphas! Can you imagine? I hear that they have an entire army of Omegas as well. Alpha Garrick is so handsome, and he has three gorgeous Omegas. They are almost too beautiful to look upon.. I saw him when I was at the central market once. He was leading a team, hunting the vagabonds who set fire to a farmer’s field, you remember when that happened? It was years ago now. He was so imposing. But, that other one was there, too.” 

She made a face that was strong enough to make you ask about it,

“Which one?”

“The Ghost, Alpha Riley. They say that no one has seen his face. He wears a terrifying skull mask. I heard from Yair that he has three Omegas as his guards, all masked as well. Yes! Guards! They have armor and weapons and huge, bulging muscles. Beautiful and lethal –”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Beta Tyran interrupted, “No one would give their Omegas weapons. No one would let their Omegas out in the public markets! Imagine the danger.”

Lilia shrugged, “Yair said that these Omegas were the danger.” 

Then, you heard about Alpha MacTavish, a descendant from one of the ancient warlords, charming and fearsome. He kept two Omegas as his brides, always pregnant, but almost as fearsome as Alpha Riley’s guards. Alpha MacTavish often expected them to travel with their Beta friends, to take their children up into the mountains, hunting and fishing and exploring outdoors. All sorts of stories about his large, loving family. You silently hoped you would be claimed by him. It would be nice to live amongst Omegas and their cubs. 

“Which one is their Apex Alpha? There must be one in a clan with so many Alphas,” you mused, asking the girls since you did not know much about Clan 141 yourself.

The Betas shared a look, and then Lilia shook her head,

“You will not be claimed by him, Omega. Don’t worry.”

“Why?” You pried, using your influence to force her to tell you.

“His name is Alpha Price, the leader of Clan 141. He’s the deadliest man in the entire land, and he’s the one who destroyed Clan Konni.”

The weight of that news sank in, and the dramatic tone of her story had attracted other Betas and Watchers to gather around you to listen to her tale, 

“Alpha Price has never claimed an Omega. They say that he had tried. He had found one of Alpha Garrick’s Omegas to be very pretty, but she tried to take his knot and failed, so Alpha Garrick took her under his protection instead.”

“Failed?” Watcher Bhin asked, shocked by the implication. 

“My sister was a medic who served with the Alliance in the most recent skirmish, and the 141 helped defeat the rebels who were killing members of Clan Darrah a few years ago. She said that she served under the doctor who had healed Alpha Garrick’s Omega. Said he’d never seen anything like it before in his life. She was so strong, and yet…”

Lilia’s words hung heavy in the air, and all of the women looked at each other and then at you, suddenly feeling the weight of your sacrifice, ashamed at their earlier levity. Tyran shook her head and patted you on the arm, 

“Don’t worry. Alpha Price will not claim you. You have nothing to worry about.”

That night, painted gold and covered in your black silks, you sat in your tent and meditated while you waited for the other clans to arrive. Your mind kept wandering to Alpha Price and his lonely existence. Had he really injured an Omega during his claiming of her? How large must his knot have been to do so? It made you shudder to think about it, and yet deep inside of you, your core warmed from the thought. If he imprinted on you…

But, imprinting was just a myth. Something only written in old texts as a footnote or a story. It was a part of the ritual of The Exchange, but it wasn’t real. 

“Omega,” Watcher Trinity interrupted your meditation and peeked her head into your tent, “It is time to present The Cloth.”

Clan 141 was here, then. 

The ritual of The Exchange began with The Shroud, which you were already wearing. Then, it was The Cloth. If all went well, it would then be The Meeting. And finally, The Ceremony.

The Cloth was a gift from the Omega to her new Alpha, a token of her affection and a chance for him to smell her scent for the first time. In ancient legends, this is when her true mate would imprint upon her, her Omegan scent bringing out his Alphic marks, dark spots or stripes across his neck and back, making him look like a big cat, ready to bite into her neck and claim her as his own. 

She tried to shake herself out of that fantasy world. All she could hope was that one of their Alphas would be drawn to her scent enough to accept her. Her people were depending on her.

“Here is your cloth, Omega. I embroidered it myself. I hope that it honors you,” Watcher Trinity handed you a wooden box, carved and adorned with great care, and when you opened it, you found a red silk square of fabric, sewn with the sigils and symbols of your clan in fine gold thread. You smiled up at your Watcher and reached out to hold her in your arms,

“It’s perfect, Watcher. Thank you for caring for me.”

You were both fighting off tears when she finally pulled away. You hoped that your Alpha would at least let you say goodbye after the ceremony, even if you might never see her again. 

Watcher Trinity and all of the other women left you alone again in your tent, giving you privacy to prepare The Cloth. You made yourself naked, and you began to rub the silk across your neck and glands, trying to soak your scent into the piece. Then, you wiped it between your legs, swiping up some of your wetness to coat the fabric. Usually, this would be enough. You could call your Watcher back into the tent and give her the box, and you would be done. 

But, something in your heart told you to try to call out your slick. You listened to your instincts, and you began to rub the soft fabric against your folds, bringing your own pleasure to a warm, shining height. Just when you thought you might not be able to do it, that your nervousness would make it too difficult or that you might black out again from the effort, you felt something inside of you slip free. Then, your hole was flooded, the orgasm making your vision go blurry and form spots at the edges, your whole body convulsing from the strength of your pleasure, and you had to lay down just to try and stay awake through your gushing bliss. 

You felt it coat the silk and your hand, a thick, milky slick, and your heart swelled with pride. You knew that a gift this special would sway the attention of at least one of their Alphas. You trusted in your skills and training that you were worthy of this ceremony and that your people would be saved. 

Sitting up, you carefully opened the box and returned The Cloth to its resting place, soaked with your scent. You took time to clean yourself up, stuffing wet blankets into your laundry packs and hiding them away, remaking your nest before your Watcher would know what you had done. You weren’t sure why you were keeping a secret from them, but you just felt like this was something between you and your Alpha. A promise, of sorts. 

You replaced your black silks and veil over your otherwise unclothed body and called your Watchers. They entered your tent along with Alpha Roan. 

His eyes widened as he approached you, taking the box from your hands. Quietly, as if knowing that this was an extremely private affair, he whispered to you, 

“What have you done, little Omega?”

“I am doing what needs to be done, Alpha. Please, deliver my message to my new Master.”

You use of the ancient terminology caught your clan Alpha off guard, but you were glad of it. If this was to be done in the old way, then you would withstand it, but you would also do it your way. You were the Omega, here, and you were the reason your clan would survive this struggle. It was time you started acting like the heroine that you were. You would be your people’s strength, no matter the cost.

“Very well,” Alpha Roan sighed, closing the box, calling out to your team, “Watchers, bring your Omega to The Cloth ritual.”

You were guided to the path again, leaving your tent behind and walking towards the big, outdoor theater. It was a crude coliseum of sorts, a large circular pit lined with rows and rows of carved seating that was cut into the land. People had already begun to line the viewing platforms, each clan decorated in their traditional garb. You felt proud to see the stripe of red where your people sat, holding each others’ hands and praying for your safe arrival. 

You were not greeted with raucous applause but instead with reverent silence. Alpha Roan walked in front of your Watchers, and you were the last one into the theater, dressed only in your sheer shroud, trying your best not to feel self-conscious about the fact that - because of the firelight - everyone could see your naked, painted body through the veil, even though you were covered head to toe in the organza. In the tent, the lighting was low and kept you in darkness, hiding your body under the thin silk. But, not here in the theater. Your skin was illuminated by the torches, and you knew that even your friends and neighbors could now see your most private parts. 

You made sure that your face did not give away your lingering shame. 

Alpha Roan took center stage, and you saw the Alphas of Clan 141 for the first time. 

Alpha MacTavish was standing between his two Omegas, and you mused that his oldest children must have stayed behind to care for his cubs. He was dressed in his Clan’s black gear, covered in armor like a gladiator, his head shaven into a mohawk, spiked and messy on the crown of his head. His body was huge and stocky, and the Omegas seated at his sides looked so tiny compared to his bulk. But, they were strong. Their bellies were round with the promise of future cubs, and their skin and hair glowed like the stars. 

Alpha Garrick stood next to him, his Omegas seated together to his right, dressed in the finest robes you had ever seen. He clearly had a type, and you thought that they looked like triplets, all decorated in jewels and gold, riches you’d never even dreamt of. Their Alpha was every bit as handsome as the stories had promised. He had pouty, full lips that were curled in a snarky sort of smile, and his soft brown eyes exuded pure confidence. His hands were wide and powerful, resting on his curved blade that lay sheathed at his hip. 

Alpha Riley was masked, as you had been told, as were his Omegas. They were not seated, and every bit of armor that was strapped to his hulking body was also strapped to them. They had glittering knives, bows, arrows, and slings, looking like they could win their own war by themselves. Their bodies were heavily muscled, and all four of them seemed as tall as Alpha MacTavish, standing proudly in leather boots. 

Then, you saw Alpha Price. He was holding a large wooden stick, at least seven feet tall, with hundreds of notches sliced into the side. You wondered what he was keeping track of, and you shuddered to know. His beard was neatly trimmed, and his hair was cut high and tight on the sides. He was certainly bigger and better muscled than each of his men, but that was not what you noticed about him first. It was his eyes. They were piercingly blue, like glacial ice, and they were looking right at you. Hungry. 

Something inside of your core tightened under his scrutiny, but Alpha Roan’s voice shook you from your trance,

“Clan Arlos welcomes Clan 141 to The Exchange. We present you with our offering, an unmated Omega, 26 years of age, fully trained in the old ways of our people. She is our greatest gift, and we ask for your acceptance of our sacrifice.”

Alpha Roan held up the box with The Cloth inside for all to see. He set it on the large, marble altar in the middle of the stage and backed away from it, waiting for the other Alphas to take part in the ritual. 

Alpha Price spoke, and your body nearly trembled at the sound of his deep, purring voice. You were more nervous than you thought, and you tried to breathe to manage yourself. 

“We will consider your honorable offering, Clan Arlos.”

With that, he slammed his huge stick against the stony ground and Alpha MacTavish stepped up to the altar. He opened the box, and along with the other Alphas in attendance, his body had a visceral reaction. His hands went to touch the cloth and he brought it to his nose, smelling your scent with a sort of wonder and amazement. 

Then, to your great relief, he raised his hand, palm outward, as a show of his acceptance of your scent. If you accepted him as well, you would be mated. 

But, the slamming sound of the stick shook you out of your celebrations. Alpha Price called up Alpha Garrick. 

This was most unusual. Typically, only one Alpha had to agree. It wasn’t like you had much choice in the matter. Even if Alpha MacTavish’s scent did not stir your heart, you would still submit to him as expected. This was not a marriage of love but of convenience. 

MacTavish looked back over his shoulder at Price, just as shocked as you were. His Omegas looked even more taken aback, strangely offended that you would not automatically join them. But, Alpha MacTavish returned the cloth to the box and made room for Garrick, disappointed and visibly confused. 

Alpha Garrick opened the box and buried his face against The Cloth, breathing in once, twice, and then tasting the fabric, right in front of everyone. It was his right, but it was a little audacious. 

His palm went up, high in the air, and his Omegas smiled and held each other’s hands, excited at your acceptance. 

Another loud slam. Another rejection. 

You may still end up with MacTavish or Garrick after negotiations, you remembered, but you were now wondering why Alpha Price had chosen to test you against all three of his men before making a decision. It was very odd. Alpha Roan looked greatly concerned. 

Alpha Riley approached the altar, his gloved hands prying open the box, then, he lifted the bottom of his mask to reveal his mouth and nose. The slightest murmur of shock rippled through the crowd. He bent to smell your scent, and he raised his hand in the air, signaling his acceptance before replacing his mask. You thought you caught the hint of a smile just before his pale lips disappeared beneath the skull plate again. 

Slam! The stick pounded against the floor.

All of Clan 141 turned to look at Alpha Price at once. Your heart stopped. Why would he… Why would Alpha Price want to undergo The Cloth ritual himself? He had no Omega. Surely, he wouldn’t claim you now, not after what had happened. You watched Alpha Garrick’s Omegas. One of them stared at Alpha Price with wide, glossy eyes. You thought that it must be his prior candidate for a mate. She was afraid for you. They were all afraid.

All eyes were on Alpha Price as he approached the altar, and the entire theater was silent as he took The Cloth in his hands. He lay it out flat, in no rush, inspecting the wet stain that you had left for him, using his thumb to feel the fine, gold embroidery. Then, his eyes darted up to yours. He was the first one to look at you while he held The Cloth to his nose, that icy gaze making you tremble with anticipation. 

You were so lost in his eyes that you didn’t see what was stirring the crowd. There was a loud gasp and then an explosion of whispers. You looked around, trying to understand what was happening. Then, when he tucked The Cloth into his breast pocket, keeping you for himself, you saw it. 

Long, red lines began to stain his skin like lightning. All of his veins tattooed themselves across his neck, and although his armor was covering his shoulders, you knew that the marks would be there as well. 

Alpha Price had imprinted for you. 

Then, he silenced the crowd by raising his right hand, palm up, staring at you the entire time. 

You were whisked away, surrounded by your Watchers, hearing Alpha Roan’s voice behind you, sounding like protest, but you couldn’t make out the words. Compared to the initial silence, the area erupted in a shattering din, clans shouting and yelling over each other, the drama from the ritual dividing the people. 

You thought you would be taken back to your tent, but you were brought to a large lake about five hundred yards from the theater. It was quiet again. No one was allowed to follow you here, it seemed. 

Watcher Trinity tried to explain in a rushed whisper, helping you climb into a boat and rowing you out to the middle of the lake,

“There is a dispute for your claiming. Alpha Roan will negotiate new terms, and Clan 141 must decide who will be your Alpha. It will be alright, Omega. It’ll be alright.”

She sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than you.

“What now?”

“Because there is not just one Alpha who has claimed you, they will undergo a ritual called The Trial. It is a fight; a test of will. Whichever Alpha can win will be granted the right to appeal to you first. If you reject him, then you will be given a chance to hear the appeal from the second.”

“So, it will be up to me, then?”

“Yes. Alpha Price has put the choice in your hands. Very odd, and not in our custom, but we must honor his wishes. You will wait here for the winner.”

You looked around. You were now in the middle of the lake, and there was a platform lingering just below the water. It was a wide stone block, about three meters wide in each direction. Watcher Trinity helped you out of the boat and you stepped tentatively onto the platform. 

“Will you wait with me?” You asked, feeling the uncertainty and fear finally get the better of you. 

“No, my Omega. I cannot. These waters are forbidden to Betas. Only Alphas and Omegas can touch it. Take this. It is your flare. If you are in trouble, if he tries to get to you, fire it high into the sky and we will rescue you. You can do this. I know you are strong. Wait patiently for your Alpha,” she paused, grabbing your hand, “I realize you are doing this for us, but please, follow your heart.”

“I will, Watcher.” 

So, you waited. You meditated, standing in an inch of cool lake water as you tried to commune with the land around you. And you waited some more. Hours passed until, finally, you saw torches. Your Watchers lined one side of the lake, and they greeted the newcomers. Then, you saw him. Alpha Price was being stripped down by your Watchers. They took his weapons from him, and then his clothes, making him naked on the shoreline. He craned his neck, trying to look for you in the lake, but it was dark and you were dressed in black. 

You could see him just fine, though. His huge body was covered in short, curly hair, dense and dark against his skin. His muscles bulged and popped as he peeled away his layers of clothing. They left his undergarments on, little more than a linen loincloth. Then, you saw your Watchers attach a huge, metal collar around his neck. They clamped it together with a padlock in the back, and a huge chain was attached at the latch. 

They bound his hands, chaining them together, and then loaded him into the boat. They rowed toward you with his back facing the platform, and as he got closer, you saw his imprint markings, red and raised like jagged scars across his neck and shoulders. Your scent had marked him permanently. The welts would go down, and the red would fade, but it would always be there, evidence of his imprinting. 

The boat reached you, and he climbed out of it, sitting on the opposite side of the platform from you, just far enough to be out of range for your scent. 

His eyes found yours again, staring at you through your veil, finding your gaze with a natural ease. He held a small box in his hands, and you thought you saw the phantom of a smile across his lips as you looked over his face. 

The boat rowed to shore, dragging the long chain all the way back, and you were alone with him. It was quiet for a long while. You were just staring at each other, studying each other, trapped in a silent battle. 

You looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time his cut, bloody knuckles, and he saw the worry cross over your eyes.

“They’re fine,” he said quietly, “My men. If that’s what you were wondering.”

“But, you triumphed over them, clearly,” you replied, not trusting your own voice. 

He chuckled a bit, sighing, 

“I did.”

“You fought for me, then.”

The laughing stopped, and he lifted his chin, proudly, 

“I did.”

“And you are here for my acceptance.”

He didn’t respond to your cue, but instead, he took the box in his hands and slid it across the platform, skittering it along the surface of the water, making little splashes as it landed in front of you. 

You reached for it, opening it up to reveal a shining key. 

“Throw it in the lake,” he commanded you, using his Alpha’s voice to bend your will. 

It shocked you, and you were so close to obeying, but you stopped, cutting your eyes at him,

“What is this?”

“Throw. It. Omega.”

His voice seared through your blood, calling to you with old magic. You fought hard to keep your mind under your own control, 

“Stop! Stop it. Tell me what this is, Alpha.”

“It unlocks my collar. Otherwise, if I make so much as a shift in your direction that they don’t like,” his head turned to look back toward your watchers, “They will pull me into the lake, and I will drown.”

“And if I unlock it…”

“Then, you will be my mate,” his tone turned vitriolic then, “And you will die.”

You let his words sink in, your curiosity overcoming your fear,

“You believe your knot cannot be taken.”

He spat back, 

“My belief is not –”

“But, it’s not up to you,” you interrupted him, “Is it?”

The shock that washed over his bright eyes filled you with a sort of sick satisfaction. You should be afraid of him, but your roles were reversed out here on this rock, and you were holding him under your command. 

“Toss that key, girl. MacTavish fought hard for you. He’ll care for you. He’s a good man.”

“Are you a good man?”

“No,” he growled, his eyes dropping to the water, examining the chains around his own hands, inspecting them for the bloodstains that he obviously thought should be there. 

“I am here for my people, Alpha Price. I am not looking for a husband. I am a resource to be traded for other resources. My clan needs The Exchange. Our people are starving, and I –”

“I would not let them starve,” Price’s eyes shot back up, indignant that you would suggest that he would leave you and your clan without food or water. 

You let yourself smile slightly, teasing him, 

“Spoken like a good man.”

He twisted his lips over his teeth, but he stayed quiet. You continued to torment him, 

“Why did you raise your hand for me?”

He sighed, sitting forward, sloping his shoulders toward you,

“I couldn’t help it. My Alpha…He…” He paused, searching for the words, “I could smell you through the box. I knew you from the moment I saw you walk through the arena. And when my men all raised their hands for you, I knew you would be accepted as our Clan Omega. You are mine in every way that matters. And I cannot have you.”

His voice was full of bitterness. You wanted to smell him. What were the chances that he was your true mate? One-sided imprinting was rare, but true mates were one in a million. 

You stood, surprising him, and he jolted back, sitting up right. The chain around his wrists clattering. You looked over at the shoreline. Your Watchers held the long chain around his neck, heavy and sagging into the black water, ready to yank it tight if he lunged for you, if he fell prey to his Alphic instinct to breed you. 

He watched you approach, seeing how the water rippled with every step you took, gazing upon the dripping silks that clung to your legs, devouring you with his eyes. You stopped in front of his crossed legs, Knowing that he could smell you now. Your pussy was shielded only with a few layers of silk, and you watched him flare his nose, sniffing you right in front of his face, blowing a slow exhale of air through his lips, making the organza billow between your legs. 

“Can I smell your scent, Alpha?” You whispered, your voice slicing through the silence of the still lake. 

His chains clattered as he twisted his head to look up at you, peeling his eyes away from your pretty pussy to meet your gaze. Then, he bent his head to one side, giving you his neck, showing you his scent gland, a sea of red stripes emanating from its center. 

You bent over him, closing the gap, steadying yourself by laying a gentle hand on his huge shoulder. Then, you took a long pause and breathed him in. His scent swirled through your body, wrecking your other senses. It was only him. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Your Alpha. Your mate. Your true mate. 

You felt the red marks of your imprint streak across your skin, and his eyes widened in shock as he saw them branch through your veins and across your gland just as his had done. 

The click of a lock made his eyes flash back to you, and with that movement, his heavy collar tumbled into the lake, the drag of the chain singing as it scraped the side of the platform. 

“What have you done, my Omega?” Price breathed. 

It was the second time you’d been asked that question. Your response was still the same:

“I am doing what needs to be done, Master. I am giving myself to you, my true mate.”

The boats were in the water the moment the collar slipped from his neck. The Watchers were on you in moments, and Price’s Beta soldiers were there to collect him. You watched as they rowed you two apart, taking you back to your camps to prepare for the ceremony. 

Your Watchers were in a rush. There were only a few hours until sunrise. Your wet robes were switched out for red ones, and a red veil adorned your head. Underneath, you were rubbed and painted and sprayed with oils, until finally, Watcher Trinity came forward with a bowl of salve. She had made it herself, you could tell. She cared for you so deeply. 

“I trust you, Omega. I know you know what you’re doing. But, please take this. It will help your muscles relax for him, and it will make it easier to bring on your natural defenses.”

She was being coy, avoiding using the word to refer to your slick, knowing that you had your own method of calling it forth using your special power. But, you took it from her anyway, and after you were left alone again to meditate, you used two fingers to massage it into your hole, feeling its effects begin to warm you, making your flesh supple and pliant. 

A hand curled around your tent flap, pulling it open. Instead of your Watcher, you saw one of Garrick’s Omegas. It was her, the one who had failed to take your Alpha’s knot.

She stepped inside,

“May I speak with you?”

You nodded, motioning for her to sit,

“Yes, but I’m afraid I already know what you are about to say.”

Her eyes widened, 

“If you know, then why have you accepted this? Alpha MacTavish was his second. He is not to your liking? His Omegas are kind and –”

“No, they were all to my liking. I am eager to join your pack in whichever way I can, but Alpha Price is my true mate.”

You showed her your skin from under the red silks, knowing she could not see them through the red of the veil. She gaped at them, 

“Your… true mate? He could… This could kill you, Omega. I don’t want to see you come to harm, and it would destroy him. I saw how he was after my accident. I nearly blamed myself for his deep sorrow.”

“I trust my training, Omega, and I am so grateful for your support, but he is my mate. What is meant to happen to me, will.” You stood with her, seeing your Watchers hovering just outside the tent, signaling them that you were ready to leave. 

“Then, I trust you as well. The others are so excited to meet you. I wish you an easy path, and I hope your ceremony is just as you want it to be. After this, you will be our Clan Omega, and I will serve you until the end of my days.”

She kissed your cheek through your veil and left you to be delivered back to the altar. 

For a long time, you had wondered if this final walk away from your pack would be a sad one. You expected every step to be filled with hesitation and fear. But, the only thing you felt was joy. Your mate awaited you at the end of this long path, and you were ready to submit to him. He was worthy of your strength, and he would help you deliver your people from danger. You would rule beside him, helping him use the 141 for good, eradicating the evil from your land. 

The sun’s pink wash was rising out of the horizon line just as you reached the theater. The crowd was silent again, and you saw the pallor and shock painted on all of their faces. They were expecting a funeral instead of a feast. They had no idea why anyone would be so desperate as to sacrifice their only Omega to this Alpha, especially when it was not necessary. But, they didn’t realize that you were no prisoner. You were no one’s puppet. You were in charge, here, and your Alpha would breed you as you commanded him to. 

Your Watchers led you to the altar, kissing your hands through the thin cloth as they passed you to take their seats near Clan Arlos, tears in their eyes and staining their cheeks, and finally, your clan Alpha approached you.

“Alpha Roan,” you greeted him. 

“Little Omega,” he smiled, kissing your hands just as your Watchers had done. He didn’t need to, but it was his way of showing everyone that he trusted your choice, “I hope you know what you are doing.”

“I do,” you said, smiling at him through your red silk veil. 

Then, Alpha Price’s men came through the center of the theater, each of them bending to kiss your hands. But, instead of the back of your knuckles, they turned them over to kiss your palms, a sign that they would accept what you had to give them. Alpha Riley was first, and he lifted his mask to show you his mouth and chin, his kiss warm and tender against your skin. Then, Alpha Garrick knelt down, placing multiple kisses along your fingers and wrists, displaying his loyalty and respect. Finally, Alpha MacTavish knelt before you, daring to whisper to you as he kissed your palms, 

“Brave lass.”

You used your thumb to pet his lip, acknowledging his trust in you. 

Then, it was time for the Omegas to join you. They approached as a unit, not individually as their Alphas had done, and they helped you lay on the altar, guiding your body back onto the marble platform. They pulled at your silks, allowing the crowd to see your naked body, painted in fine brushes of intricate gold designs, of prayers and songs of your people, their symbols adorning you from neck to toe. Finally, they began to kiss you, licking and sucking at your mouth like lovers, showing their devotion to you as their clan Omega. 

As they kissed you, your skin began to flush hot, your body somehow knowing what was about to happen to you. The Omegas felt your fire against their lips, and they pulled your legs apart, each of them bending to lick and suck at your flower’s drooling petals, slurping and sucking up your creamy nectar. They were at your breasts, your neck, your belly, your hands and feet. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, shaking and trembling under their affection, yet moved by their deep loyalty. You knew you would be safe with them. They would care for you just as your clan had done. 

Then, you heard the familiar slam of a longstaff. Your Alpha had arrived. 

According to the ceremony, you were meant to be still and silent as a showing of your acceptance. If you moved or cried out in any way, you risked a clan war, as taking a mate without their consent was a dark offense. You had to prove to your people that you were here of your own free will, and even though you were feeling the static cling of apprehension beginning to worm its way into your chest, you tried to breathe through it, trusting your Alpha to lead you through this moment with his protective power. 

Your legs were lowered to the stirrup-style rests that were carved just below the stone table, keeping your knees wide apart, allowing your pussy to drip openly, glistening with the beginnings of your slick. You calmed yourself as they left you alone, each of them kissing you softly once more to show their reverence. 

Then, you heard the clatter of fallen armor. He was undressing, removing his warlord’s mantle and coming to you fully bare. You spotted him between the vee of your legs as he approached the dais, his imprint marks flushed a deep wine red, his body shining with the traditional oils, meant to give him another layer of aphrodisiacs, promoting his production of his seed, keeping his cock tall and hard. 

But, you knew that your imprint on his gland would do more than all of their drugs combined. He would kill every last person in this arena to get to you at this point, and although you had consented to this joining, you were no longer controlling it. He would take you, no matter what. 

Then, when he got close enough to your platform, you saw it. It was standing proudly against his thick, furry belly, dripping with precome and lubricants, glittering in the rising sun. His cock was immense. You had not practiced on one so large. And his knot was larger than your two fists pressed together. He was intact, and his foreskin was slipping down his flushed head, unable to contain the swelling glans. Your body threatened to quiver from your suspense, and you tried to move your mind into your meditative trance. 

As he approached, he did not go straight for his position between your legs. Instead, he walked around the front of the marble platform and bent to look you in your eyes, leaning his head down for a deep, heady kiss. He fed you his tongue and suckled on yours, letting it writhe inside of his mouth, rubbing against his own probing muscle.

He pulled away to gaze upon you, his eyes soft and full of joy. You smiled up at him, watching as he enjoyed the rest of your body, caressing your breasts, admiring your paintings. 

“Did my clan show you their loyalty, my Omega?”

“Yes, Master,” you answered quietly. 

“Are you prepared for me to show you mine?”

“Yes, Master. I am,” you replied, giving him a brave face despite the absolute weapon that was slobbering for you against his belly. You wanted to taste it, but now was not the time. 

He returned to the base of your platform, kneeling in front of your wet hole, bending to place his mouth against you. He began to suck, pulling your soft lips into his mouth like he was starving, lapping up the beginnings of your body’s fluids, moaning from the taste and the smell of your scent. You wanted to moan, you wanted to pin his head to your trembling quim, but you didn’t dare move a muscle or make a single sound. Breathing in, breathing out, letting the sparks of an orgasm rush through you, bringing tears to your eyes from holding back so much pleasure. 

Your Watcher’s salve was almost too effective. It had made you pliant, but now you were beyond sensitive, able to feel the pound of your own heartbeat through your hole, desperate for something to press inside of you. You needed his cock. 

But, he did not give it to you. He just sucked and sucked and sucked, and his fingers began to rub along the entrance of your slippery hole, pressing down on your pussy’s walls, testing their strength. You fluttered for him, just like your Watchers had taught you, and you felt him stumble in his movements, shocked by your power. 

He stood between your legs, his face and beard soaking from his meal, letting you drip off of his chin like a messy hound drinking from a river. Then, to test your resolve, he teased you with a little bit of meanness, stepping forward to let his cock lay along your body, measuring himself on the outside of you. He reached far beyond your navel, his lubed phallus warm and heavy, his knot resting in the softness of your folds, and you could feel him throbbing for you. 

You didn’t dare move, but you wanted to cradle his cock in your hands, to rub up and down his length, to feel the smoothness of his head and the firmness of his knot. But, you stayed stock still, showing the crowd that you would not waver. There was some soft chittering from the clans, the shock at his size obviously enough to break onlookers out of their respectful quiet. 

Then, he began notching his head at the entrance of your pussy, letting the tip slide up and down your tight ring of muscles that guarded your entrance.      

“Last chance, Omega. Call it off. Cry out, and my own men will cut me down,” he bade you under his breath, having a hard time holding his words and sentences together, his voice shaking in his throat. 

You looked up at him with closed lips, making a point to give him a soft smile as a response. 

No deal. 

You pulsed your muscles again, making your pussy lap up his sloppy precome like a little mouth, watching as he was torn apart by your action, no matter how minor. 

So, without any other choice, he fed himself into you. It was a fearsome experience, at first. You weren’t sure if you could actually handle him. But, you breathed through the stress, relaxing your body, finding that deep, secret place inside of you, making your slick drop down for him, flooding your hole to welcome him in. 

The confusion that painted his face was so satisfying. He couldn’t understand the sheer warmth and comfort he was experiencing. His cock was being sucked into you, deeper and deeper, and finally, you felt his knot. 

He pulled all the way out of you, and sheathed himself all the way back in, always reaching to that one spot, just above his bulbous anchor, and then starting his process over again. Each time his cock fucked its way through your body, humping himself into you, creamy, milking noises filled the quiet, open-air arena. The whole ensemble could hear him invading your hole, the lurid slap of skin on skin loud and unashamed. 

His phallus was large enough to rub against your most sensitive spot over and over, bullying it into producing more and more slick, making you come just by dragging his heavy cockhead over it, in and out, in and out, pounding into you with almost reckless need. 

You came for him, and your body began to shiver from the overwhelming bliss, but you held your voice. You tried to still yourself, not wanting to show weakness, but there was nothing you could do. You were shattered by his cock, coming over and over again. It was an endless wave. You had no idea where one started and the other stopped. 

You could taste blood in your mouth from biting the inside of your cheek. Still, you pushed through it, testing yourself with every push and pull of your body. 

His huge hands pawed at your hips and breasts, squeezing you, watching your plump flesh jiggle with every cruel strike of his hips. Your Alpha took your own slick and began to rub it all over your skin, swirling it around your nipples, letting it smear across your belly from his palm. Then, he painted himself, taking it from your well-fucked hole and rubbing it across his scent gland, down his chest, matting his hair with your wetness. 

Then, you felt his precome begin to pump out of him. You knew it had begun because this was when your slick was meant to wash through you, but there was no space for anything else. So, it began to pour out of you and over his knot. Every time he pushed it against your body, it threatened to slip into your hole, and you were filled with a twisted excitement, ready for it to be stuck inside of you, to churn and grind against your insides, to trap you in a blinding, rageful bliss. You nearly cried out from the heavy want you felt in your chest. 

“You ready for my knot, pretty Omega?” He growled, no longer speaking to you softly. There was no gentleness left within him. 

He shoved you back across the dais, climbing up onto it with you, breaking every protocol by doing so, but knowing there wasn’t a single other Alpha in attendance who would do anything about it unless you asked them to. But, he trusted you, lifting himself above you, bringing his face to your face, kissing you and beginning to lick your scent gland, making you see stars. 

Would he really bite you right here in front of all these people while you were about to take his knot? It was beyond intimate. Not only was it private, but it was dangerous. It was when an Alpha was most vulnerable. The audacity of this man shook you to your core. 

“Bite me, Omega. Please take me. Claim me as yours, sweetheart. Show them that you are mine. My Omega.”

His voice was ragged and deep, a hoarse purr of commands, all of which you were happy to obey. You began to lick his neck, putting your mouth over his gland as you began to suck at the round swell of flesh. Then, just as you canted your hips, feeling his knot slip inside of you, shoving and burying itself within the tight sheath of your pussy, you used your muscles to yank him the rest of the way in, and you bit down on his neck, hard, your body seizing from a hard, ruthless orgasm. . 

You heard the crack of his gland, and you felt him sink his fangs into yours, the pain and the pleasure mixing within you like a drug, his cock firing rope after rope of searing hot come into your belly, flooding your womb with his spend. He pulled his mouth away and stared into your eyes. His pupils were blown wide, his face full of disbelief, 

“My love…”

You kissed him, taking his lip into yours, suckling on it, trying to guide him back down from his tantric high. He was struggling above you, stuck deep inside of you, unable to stop himself from dumping heavy loads of his come into your body, his cock pulsing and throbbing with each burst of his cream. 

He rested his head on your neck, returning his mouth to your gland, and every time he licked it, now, you felt your pussy twist around him, threatening to slam you with another orgasm. You licked him, too, hearing him cry out against your skin, feeling the mirror of your sensations, his heavy phallus jerking as you sucked on his broken gland. 

Finally, he was able to rock back and forth, letting his knot slip out of you before popping it back inside, fucking you with it just like he did with his cock. He twisted his hips forward, driving into you with all of his strength, and then he would pull himself back out, the swell of his knot increasing with each thrust until, on the last thrust, he was finally trapped, unable to remove himself from your core. 

Now, though, it was your turn. You began to use your muscles to push and pull him from the inside, fucking him like a sleeve of smooth, soaked warmth, jerking his shaft up and down with your insides.

“Oh, fuck…” He whispered, not expecting your skills to be so advanced, but you had trained hard for this moment. You weren’t about to let it go to waste. 

You moved him inside of you, letting his knot take the brunt of your efforts, squeezing it like a fruit, making sure all of his juice melted into your skin. You made him come like this again, using the salve that your Watcher had given to you as an advantage, knowing that the heightened sensitivity you felt was now being passed on to him. He filled you up, his knot plugging your hole, preventing any of his seed from leaking out, and your tummy was swollen from his load, round and full for everyone to see. 

He sat up on his heels, looking down at you with his eyes full of adoration and wonder, watching your strong abdominals clench and twist as you used them to help you work inside of yourself, edging him over and over before pulling him down into the depths of another hard come with you. 

His hands went to the bulge of fluid in your belly, most of it flooding into your womb, unable to escape anywhere else. Your Alpha caressed your skin, marveling at the fullness. Then, he looked down at your stretched hole, playing with your clitorus that had been forced out from under its hood due to the sheer size of his knot, all of your skin bowing around it and pulled tight. 

Your Alpha forced you to come like this, milking him hard, trying not to make a sound but giving away your mind-bending pleasure with shaking, whimpering breaths. 

“That’s a good Omega. So full of my come.”

You smiled up at him, enjoying the full feeling of his come inside of you. But, you were losing your strength, and he could feel it. Alpha Price leaned over you again, grinding himself down into you and helping you reach one last orgasm, pulling himself along with you, squirting the last of his spend into your pussy. Then, he carefully twisted his cock out of you, watching the gush of his come coat the marble platform, dripping out of you and down the sides of the dais. 

You were so empty and weak, but you were being lifted, cradled in his arms, and the whole arena burst into revelrous applause. The feast had begun, but not for you. You would be in your Alpha’s tent, and there you would remain until he bred you, making sure that you were laden with his cub, sharing food and drink with him in bed while you were stuck on his knot, traditionally until sunset when you would be presented to the clans as the new Apex Omega, destined to rule beside him forever. 

“Are you done being quiet, my Omega?”

“Yes, Master,” you whispered, nestling into his broad chest. 

“Good,” he smiled, “I need to hear you scream for me.”

“And I need my Alpha to breed me. I need your knot again, Master. Don’t pull it out.”

“I’m at your command, my love,” he smiled, planting a kiss on your temple, smearing his own salve across your swollen flesh, working his cock until he was hard again. 

When you felt his knot for the second time, you knew you had made the right choice. Your people were safe, and so were you. You weren’t sure if it was the high of your claiming or the truth that you felt in your heart, but you were eager to be dripping with his come every night. Trapped underneath your Alpha was right where you belonged, knotted and full of his love. 

Seriously, send help. I was too ashamed to even reread it for typos. I'm so sorry.

[sanemistar]

drop the act — satoru gojo

contents ★ fem!reader, fake dating to real lovers, fluff, 0.8k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

“let’s just stop.” satoru’s announcement came out of the blue. his tone came off serious and firm, which was quite uncharacteristic of him. it took you by surprise, a dumbfounded expression was written all over your face. even though you knew that this whole ‘fake’ relationship situation wouldn’t last long and that it was bound to come to an end sooner or later the moment he found someone he truly loved, and although you prepared yourself for that day, you just couldn’t help but feel a hint of sadness and hurt as your heart clenched painfully inside your chest.

why? because what first started as nothing but a mere attraction, a show to stop your parents’ constant nagging about you not seeing anyone at you age while most of your peers had gotten married already, turned to real and genuine feelings of love. as time passed by since the start of your relationship with him, you found yourself helplessly fall for satoru and those sweet, tender acts of his. the way your name slipped off his lips ever so sweetly, and how it rung into your ears like a serenade. how he took your hand into his as they fitted perfectly, like two puzzle pieces that complete one another. how he casually threw his arms around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world to do for him.

you knew that all of his sweet actions and gestures were all just a part of his act to make it seem as believable and convincing as possible, and he did exactly that. no one, not even your parents, had a single doubt that the two of you were really dating. to outsiders, your relationship was what they call 'goals'. not knowing that it was all just a show, a camouflage. although you knew it all along, but you couldn't help but fall for him.

satoru was your ideal type for what a lover should be, and you wanted to do nothing more than to confess your feelings for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. after all, the two of you only ever agreed to do this was because there were no strings attached. it was only a matter of convenience for both you and him, since he also happened to be in the same situation as you. so when you asked for his help, he was more than willing to oblige.

you wanted to tell him not to leave you, to stay with you longer, that you’d gotten so used to being with him to the point where you weren't ready to live without him, that you needed him. just thinking about how the two of you would part ways from then on, and how satoru would eventually move on like nothing happened between the two of you and maybe even find himself someone whom he’d truly love almost made your head spiral out of control.

if only you had known your feelings for him would grow this intensely, you wouldn't have agreed to do this.

your body moved on its own as your hand grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. you swallowed a lump that was starting to form in your throat.

"do we really have to?" your voice was shaky as you sounded very desperate. your eyes were practically glued to the floor as you anxiously awaited for his answer, refusing to ever look up. your chest moved up and down rapidly as as result of your heavy breathing.

you heard him sigh as he removed your hand away.

"yes, it’s gotten really tiring having to keep up with this act." your heart sank at his response. it really was the ending, and you were trying your hardest to fight the tears that eagerly awaited to fall.

satoru reached his hand out and used his thumb to lift your chin up, forcing you to look at his beautiful sky blue eyes. his lips slightly parted as he began speaking.

“let’s drop the act, i love you for real.”

and the sudden declaration hit you like a truck, did he just say that he loved you? it took you a couple of long minutes to process his words and fully register them in your mind.

the seriousness and earnestness of his tone along with his unwavering gaze at you left no room for doubt, he definitely meant every word he said. and you couldn't believe what started as a mere act at first had actually become something real.

the anxious look on your face began to relax as all tension slowly escaped your body, replaced with a wave of joy and relief. you let a few happy tears fall down your crimson, red cheeks as a result of being overwhelmed with emotions, which satoru gently wiped.

"yeah, let's." you hummed, a soft smile made its way onto your face. you wrapped your arms securely around his neck as you stood on your tippy toes, whispering softly into his ears in a moment of genuine intimacy and affection which you had felt for the very first time.

"i love you, satoru." although it wasn't your first time saying those words to him, but this time it felt much different, much more meaningful.

he smiled softly and leaned closer as the distance between you and him was completely gone.

taglist: @sylusdoll @ayrastv @hanaeriin @spkyssn @stunies @kalsplace

[moonstruckme]

Hey so i have a request and you can totally say no if this makes you uncomfortable but would you consider writing a poly marauders x reader where the readers depressed and can’t get anything done im asking cause I’ve been. Going through something and i thought id be okay by now but I’ve kinda regressed idk and now im depressed idk pls don’t write this if its to hard or upsetting

Thank you for your request lovely, I really hope things are getting easier for you or that they do soon <3

cw: depression

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 981 words

You realize the boys must be home when Remus crouches in front of you. You hadn’t heard the car come up the driveway, nor the door opening. You were too deep inside your own head. Or maybe you’d drifted off into another of your light, unsatisfying sleeps. 

“Hi.” He offers you a little smile, putting out his hand. You worm yours out from under your blanket to give it to him, and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles fondly. “How was your day, lovely?” 

“Fine,” you say. Your voice rasps a bit from disuse. 

“I’m opening the curtains,” James warns from somewhere behind you. “Here, take these.” 

Sirius’ grunt sounds surprised. “Since when is carrying in the groceries a relay sport?” he complains. 

True to James’ word, light floods the living room a moment later. It illuminates Remus’ face in front of you, letting you see the gentle concern in his eyes. His gaze moves up above your head just before strong hands grasp you by the shoulders. 

“I missed you,” says James, hugging downwards at you until he gives up and lets his body flop over the back of the couch, “so much, today.” 

You pet down the hair at his nape, love like a bubble in your chest that’s always on the brink of popping. You love the way James hugs; it’s like he really is trying to feel as close to you as he can be, with his face bent towards your neck and one hand splayed behind your heart. You let yourself meld to him. Remus starts collecting your little mess from the coffee table, taking things into the kitchen.

“It was only a few hours,” you say. 

James makes a jokey harrumphing sound. “A few hours too many.” He lets you go to plant a smacking kiss on your cheek. “If you could have one thing for dinner tonight, what would it be?” 

“I thought we agreed to stop playing that game,” says Sirius, coming back in to sit down on the armrest of the couch. He sees where you’re toying with James’ hair and takes a lock between his own fingers. “You need a haircut, Jamie.” 

“You’re one to talk,” James quips, though he leans into the touch, always more than happy to have his hair played with. “And we only agreed to stop playing with you, because your expectations were too high.” 

“They were not.” 

“Why would you think we’d be able to get what we needed for escargot at our corner shop?” 

“If you didn’t want to know what I actually wanted, you shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Anyway,” James turns back to you, “what would you have, lovie?” 

“And before you say,” says Sirius, “the correct answer is tomato basil soup with a cheese toastie.”

James sulks, thwarted, and you stroke your thumb over his nape consolingly. “That sounds really lovely,” you say earnestly. “Was I really supposed to guess that on my own, though?” 

“You might’ve,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I was thinking you could be my soup stirrer. If you’re up for the task.” 

It’s an odd feeling, affection and guilt intertwined so well you can’t fully tell which is which. You know James is making a point of asking you so that you might come to the kitchen, be among them for a bit instead of staying off in your own world, do a task that makes you feel productive even if it’s small. You appreciate that he does it, and you loathe yourself for making him feel the need to. You wish your boyfriends wouldn’t coddle you not because you don’t like it but because you like it too much. You don’t deserve it. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice draws you back out from inside your head again. It’s become such a frequent haunt you don’t always realize you’re going anymore. He’s studying you. “You okay?” 

You hum as Remus comes back in, sitting on the now clean coffee table. “Thanks for doing that,” you murmur. His eyebrows lift slightly when he realizes you’re talking to him. “Sorry I left a mess.” 

Remus tsks, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your forehead. “It wasn’t really a mess,” he says. “I don’t mind. Are you going to help us with dinner?” 

“Yeah.” It’s not so much a decision as a yielding, but James beams like you’ve made his day. It makes you want to cry. 

Sirius wraps an arm around your waist as you go to the kitchen, squeezing the fat of your hip lovingly. “Think I’ll take up the duty of stirring the soup, too,” he says to you. “Seems like a two-person job.” 

“Probably, yeah.” You let yourself lean into his side. He takes your weight happily, mushing a kiss into your hair. “Sorry I’m so lame lately,” you tell him quietly. “You guys don’t need to coddle me so much.” 

“You’re not lame, who said that?” Sirius jostles you a little bit. When you don’t laugh, he changes his approach, leaning his head against yours. “We’re not coddling you, sweetheart. You’re just in a rut right now, yeah? And we’re meeting you where you’re at.” 

He makes it sound so simple, but your throat clogs with the true difficulty of it all. When you reply your voice is thick. “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to get out.” 

“You will,” he promises surely. “I don’t know how long it might take, but it’ll happen. And if whatever we’re doing isn’t working for you, we can figure something else out, okay? We’re with you.” 

When James says it’s your time to stir, Sirius insists on standing behind you and holding your hand that’s holding the spoon. Remus rolls his eyes at the idea of it being a two-person job, but you don’t know. You think maybe it takes all four of you to make it work.

[calummss]

Sweet Ultraviolence | Klaus Mikaelson

masterlist

summary: it was no secret that klaus mikaelson felt for you, but you didn’t, maybe deep down but not enough. so how do you react when the nortorious serial killer gives you the most fucked up surprise?

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 4k

a/n: scene taken from the sexiest ahs scene ever. here’s a link !! probably my favourite klaus fic i have written. also smut!! i’ve written smut?? i’m not a smut writer so if it’s bad pretend it never happened….

‘Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean it means anything.’

‘This date?’

‘Don’t call this a date.’

‘Why?’ Klaus asked,grabbing his wine glass, his gaze sitting on your frame as he sipped the red liquor. ‘We’re at my house, eating a lovely dinner with a beautiful girl. By my definition it is a date.’

‘Please,’ you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you felt the warmth of the fireplace hit your bare skin, engulfing you in a hug. ‘You are fully aware of why I am here so let’s not read something into this.’

Sitting at a table with Klaus Mikaelson was not as romantic as it sounded. The dark walls pushing in on you, a dark gaze staring at you, darkness that made up the house. Even the plate of meat, potatoes and vegetables seemed less appetising as they normally would. Maybe it was the blood seeping out of the flesh that made you feel agitated, maybe it was the notorious vampire serial killer that so desperately wanted you to be his.

‘Still,’ he paused for a second, ‘you came.’

You yourself took a sip of the white wine you had mixed with sparkling water, the subtle bitterness biting your tongue, the warm fuzzy feeling of the alcohol leaving a familiar taste of comfort.

‘Klaus, sometimes I think you are so delusional, like how are you functioning?’

‘I function just fine, love.’

‘Get me another one of these,’ you held up your glass, lifting it to your red painted lips to drown the last drop of its contents. ‘And maybe I’ll continue to act like I am loving this dinner date from hell.’ You gave him a wide grin displaying your obvious sarcasm.

Klaus smirked, his twisted smile making your stomach churn. This would be a lot easier if he weren’t attractive but of course the maniac looks like he was carved by Lucifer himself.

‘That’s a tempting offer.’

He barely lifted his hand signalling the compelled boy that he wanted something. ‘Another white wine with sparkling water for my ravishing date, Taylor.’

‘Wow,’ you jested in fake astonishment, ‘so intimidating. Raising your hand, getting whatever you want…do you enjoy it? Getting everything with the snap of your fingers.’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘You compel people to do stuff for you. Don’t you want people to do things because they want to? Care for you?’

‘No one cares about me, love.’ He chuckles, ‘I’m the monster, remember?’

You didn’t reply. You stayed silent, staring at him being the only communication amongst the quiet room, only the cracking of burning wood to be heard. ‘Why do you like me?’ You shoved the potato around your plate, using it to smear the watered down blood across the porcelain.

‘What’s not to like?’ Klaus shrugged his shoulders, leaning back into the chair, the definition of his abs to see seen through the thin material of his shirt.

You looked up from your plate. ‘Just answer the question, please.’

‘You’re like a ray of sunshine on a bad day. When I’m near you I feel you good nature rub off on me—makes me want to stay close. You’re kind even if not to me, you treat everyone the same and give chances to people that probably don’t deserve them. You help when help is needed and disregard yourself for others. You’re beautiful. You smell good, and the fact that I cannot have you makes me want you even more.’

‘I’m not something you can own, Klaus,’

‘I can’t own you love, but I can own your heart if you let me.’

Again you stayed quiet, scared that if you speak he could hear the smitteness in your tone, knowing that for a second he had gotten under your skin.

‘Admit that you are drawn to darkness, Y/n,’ his eyes stared into the most inner part of your soul, ‘even the purest of heart are drawn to it.’

‘I never said I’m not, Klaus,’ you took a sip of wine. ‘I like darkness. The unknown, the excitement…Just because I don’t like your darkness Klaus doesn’t mean I’m denying my thoughts or feelings.’

‘Keep telling yourself that.’

‘You aggravate me.’ You downed the rest of your drink again, setting it down with a loud thud.

‘Makes you more attractive.’

‘Taylor?’ You smiled over at the boy Klaus had compelled for tonight’s dinner, that what you had hoped anyway, ‘Do you by chance have any earplugs, sweetheart?’

Taylor’s eyes grew wide, pressing his lips together as he turned his head towards Klaus for further instructions. Klaus felt his stare but continued to stare at you with a grin.

‘What are you staring at, Taylor? Get the lady some earplugs.’

Taylor left soon after, leaving the two of you alone which made you chuckle at Klaus who didn’t deny your request.

‘What?’ He asked plainly.

‘Nothing.’ You cut a piece of the steak and let the blood coat your tongue, continuing to feel his eyes linger on your for the rest of the night.

A week later and you were back at school. Vacation was over and reality hit. Thankfully you were seeing Mr. Saltzman today. A class you could pay a little less attention to since you sat in the back of the room, daydreaming away. You were too busy talking to friends that you didn’t realise a pair of eyes that stalked you from afar. Eyes watching your every move.

Finishing up the conversation you said your goodbyes to Dana and Heather and turned around to head towards the gym but when you took a step back you collided with a body making them stumble and spill their drink on the floor.

‘Oh my god, I am so sorry. Are you okay?’ You reach out to help Connor find his balance but he slapped away your arms, letting out a deep growl.

‘What is your fucking problem, bitch?!’

‘Excuse me?’ You drew your eyebrows together. It was clearly an accident. Why was he getting so worked up?

‘I said what is your problem?’ He came dangerously close.

‘Hey,’ his friend pulled him back, trying to reassure him that it was an honest accident.

‘You better apologise.’

‘I literally apologised, asshole. How about you pipe down on your ego and take a long second to reevaluate your life? Pathetic.’

Connor’s face turned red, his strength releasing him from his friends grip, his face too close to yours for your liking. ‘I’ve disliked you since I’ve known you, Y/n. Don’t give me more reasons to hate you.’

‘Get a life.’ You laughed out loud.

‘You better watch your back!’

‘Okay, Connor. Will do.’ You called after him as he left the scene,his head turning your way as you cleaned off the few drops of water that caught themselves on your fabric. Chuckling to yourself, you headed the way you were supposed to go and headed towards cheerleading practice, the anger giving you a surge of adrenaline that reassured you that you were going to nail the landing you had failed to complete for weeks.

Klaus had watched the scene from afar, his eyes trailing Connor as he walked past Klaus whose forehead creased, his eyes turning lifeless as he turned around and followed Connor to wherever it was he was heading to.

Practice was good and you were right; you managed to pull off the stunt earning you praise from the coach, letting you know that if you keep up the good work you will be the best cheerleader Mystic Falls ever had. You hated saying it but you lived off of praise. Was there a better feeling than being seen for your hard work and determination? Not really, but that was your opinion. You headed towards the locker room, your red cheer uniform starting to slowly take up some of the sweat from practice. It was late. Everyone went home instead of you. You wanted to perfect the new choreography and stayed long after practice ended. So when you entered the locker room it was dead silent. The squeaking of the locker made you flinch as you placed your water bottle into the side pocket of your bag. You were about to take out your bag to change when you heard the sound of droplets hitting the floor. Wet drops. Only then had you noticed that your feet were also wet. And it wasn’t sweat…it was too much for it to be just that… When you looked up to where the sound was coming from you froze. Staring up at the ceiling just above the lockers, the body of Connor hung from the wall. Broken arms and legs that were twisted inhumane. His intestines spilling from his torso, head hanging from his neck like it was about to fall off. His blood was dripping onto your locker, the smell of blood prominent and not something that could be ignored. As you stared up at him, taking in his lifeless body, a faint smile spread across your lips as you thought back on the scene earlier in the hallway.

‘You like my surprise?’ A voice sounded from behind you and you knew exactly who it was so you didn’t bother to turn around, too fascinated by the body hanging like a spider.

‘You did this?’

You heard his footsteps come closer, his heavy footsteps giving away his exact location whenever he moved, so much that after a few seconds you knew that he was standing right behind you, him too staring at the body.

‘I didn’t like how he talked to you or his lack of respect, his entitlement.’

You rubbed your lips against each other, turning around to slap Klaus across the face, feeling a painful sting across the palm of your hand, grabbing a handful of his shirt and getting up on the bench looking down at him. Vertical wrinkles appeared between his eyebrows, his eyes bigger than before. Fear. Fear that he had fucked up the last chance he had of being with you. Scared that you would never ever look at him again. Fear that he had lost you before he even had you.

You took your finger and slowly dragged it across his face, pulling down his bottom lips as you stared at him. ‘That is the most fucked up thing anyone has ever done for me,’ you stared into his eyes that were still wide, your lack of transparency making him feel sick. ‘That’s so hot.’ You dragged out, taking that fistful of his shirt and crashing your lips onto him, your hands roaming his hair, tugging as you felt him against you. His tongue running across your bottom lip, tasting what he had craved for so long. He continued to place wet kisses down your cleavage, continuing to kiss your legs, holding onto your ankle as he came face-to-face with the blood on your foot. Looking up through his lashes he saw you wipe away a single tear, inhaling the scent of blood before dragging his tongue across the top of your foot, licking the sweet taste of blood. Coming back up to kiss you again, you could feel his hot breath ricochet off your cheeks, his growling making your cunt ache from between your legs as he continued to kiss you.

‘I thought you hated violence.’ He breathed, allowing you to catch your breath.

‘I was wrong.’

‘Does that mean—‘

‘Shut up and kiss me.’

Klaus had never shut up so quickly, pressing his body against yours wanting to be one with you. Ripping off his shirt you felt him against your skin. His fingers curled around the hem of your panties, dragging them down your legs. You curled the finger around your top, ready to take it off but Klaus’ hands shot up to hold them still. ‘Don’t take it off. I want to fuck you in it.’

You suppress a moan as he lowered his head underneath your skirt, feeling his breath on the inside of your thighs, already making your legs tremble. You let out a quiet yelp as you felt his tongue licked your slit, closing his lips around your clit as he started to swirl his tongue around your cunt, sending vibrations through your stomach as you moaned. ‘Fuck,’ your hands grabbed his hair, trying to give yourself some stability. Klaus noticed your legs growing weaker. He picked you up with your legs over his shoulders and laid you down on the blood covered floor, feeling the blood go up your ass. Klaus continued to suck on your clit, concealed groans vibrating against your cunt, the knot in your stomach growing tighter as his tongue focused on your most sensitive spot. You could feel your thighs go numb from holding them up. Your breath becoming shorter the more Klaus dragged his tongue across your cunt, collecting your juices, making you realise you were about to come. You felt your muscles contract, your legs starting to shake as the knot tightened faster than it had ever before.

‘Fuck,’ you pressed air past your lips, ‘please don’t stop.’

Close to coming, Klaus gave one last suck before you felt your stomach explode, squirming underneath him as he continued to flick his tongue over your sensitive clit, making your body shudder with aftershocks.

‘Fuck Klaus, fuck fuck fuck.’

You felt Klaus press a kiss on your cunt before coming out from underneath your skirt, catching your lips so you could taste yoursef.

‘You like this don’t you?’

You nodded.

‘You like the way I touch you?’

You nodded again, feeling his hand make its way down to your cunt again.

‘Stop,’ you breathed, stopping his hand trailing down to your cunt that had craved his touch the moment he stared into your eyes. ‘Let me,’ You slowly dropped to your knees, blood staining them s you reached for his trousers, starting to unbuckle his belt, your fingers slipping off the buckle.

‘What are you doing?’ Klaus let out a suppressed smile, his head hanging low to see your hands undoing his belt, your lips caught between your teeth.

‘I want this.’

‘My cock?’

‘Yes.’ Another deep breath.

‘I thought you hadn't done this before?’

‘I haven’t.’ Having undone his buckle and strap, you grabbed his front pockets and pulled down the rough fabric, the bulge beneath his boxer meeting your eyes, a warm heat spreading through your legs. ‘But how do you know that?’

‘Watching you is my favourite pastime.’

‘You’re fucked up…’

‘So are you, love.’

Taking a gulp, you pulled down his boxers to release his cock that sprang against his stomach. Your breath caught your throat. It’s big. Klaus could feel his pre-cum pumping through him just thinking of your innocent lips tucked around the head of his tip. His chest swelled with air as he trailed his finger down to the base of his cock, twitching under his own touch. Your breath hitched, trying to get as much oxygen into your lungs, as you watched him come towards you, knowing that his size would make it hard to breathe. His hand stroked over his hardened shaft, collecting a small speck of pre-cum. You grabbed his thick pulsing length, a groan leaving his throat as your fingers wrapped around him. You leaned over, carefully licking his tip, slowly building your way to sucking on his head, spitting on it as you wet his pink cock.

‘Fuck,’ Klaus hissed, his dirty blond curls falling back as his hand tangled itself in your hair.

You gagged on his size, but you refused to let go of him, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. Saliva filled your mouth as you focused, moaning against him as he gently started thrust in and out, not wanting to hurt you.

‘So, so eager for me, aren’t you?’ He groaned.

His hands found their way to your hair, pulling your head back, allowing him further access to your throat. A mixture of tears, saliva and cum dribbled from between your lips, but he didn’t seem to mind, deep groans continuing to escape his pink lips. The slight sound of you gagging letting his moans increase in sound.

‘Such a pretty face. Look at you.’ He glanced down, staring into your eyes. ‘You look so good taking my cock. Your first time having a cock down your throat and you’re doing so well.’

A pool of cum was now dripping below you. You couldn’t help it, you were so turned on. You needed him. You need him inside of you soon. Growling, he pushed the head of the shaft past your lips, hitting the back of your throat. Klaus tangled his fingers into your messy hair, eager to push in deeper. You swallowed around his throbbing length, earning a huffed moan. You continue stroking him, your hand gliding along his shaft, your own arousal starring to grow

‘You’re so fucking good at taking my cock,’ he thrusted in and out of my aching mouth. ‘Your first time and you already know how to send me over the edge.’

He pulled out his cock giving you time to breathe. You gasped out for air, before he slid back inside of you. Pre-cum was leaking from his tip, the salty taste mixing in with your own spit. You pulled in your lips around his cock, sucking harder, your tongue pressing up against the head and circling around it. Your lips and throat we’re starting to turn numb, every thrust releasing a tear, every salty tear mixing with the shaft.

‘Look at me,’

Your eyes shot up and stared into his.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ He moaned loudly before releasing into your mouth; hot jets hitting the back of your throat. ‘Be a doll and swallow.’ He worked hard to suppress a moan, jerking himself through his orgasm. Both of your chests were heavy—you had almost forgotten what breathing felt like. He huffed and dragged his fingers across your face, stroking your cheeks as he stared at you with sparks in his eyes. ‘You did so well, my love.’

Carefully grabbing you by your throat, Klaus pulled you up and swiftly turned you around, his hard cock pressing up against your firm ass as his hands glided over your tits, smearing the blood across your uniform and cleavage; drops of blood running down your chest as you placed your arms behind your head as Klaus started to place kisses again the thin skin on your neck, gently sucking on it, making the hairs on your body stand up.

‘God, you’re so fucking hot.’

You hummed in response, his mouth on your neck making it hard to concentrate.

Klaus brushed the tip of his cock against your slit, teasing you as his moved it along your cunt, adoring the way you whimpered at his slightest touch.

‘I thought you were a gentleman and wouldn’t fuck a girl so shortly after the first dinner.’

‘I’m not a gentleman tonight, my love. You make it hard to control myself,’ Klaus whispered in your ear, sending a chill down your spine that stopped before it reached your toes as he thrusted into your core making you shout out.

‘Oh my god, Klaus. Fuck you feel so fucking good.’

His cock stretched out the walls of your cunt that welcomed him, each thrust slowly adjusting to his size. His lips kept him busy at your neck and collar, leaving trails of dark marks. Hickeys or blood, it was hard to tell. You could feel the blood slowly dry out on your skin, but new blood spread across your body as Connor’s blood continued to seep out of him, letting you and Klaus be covered in his surprise. He began to pump his cock out of you with pace. Your hands grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, asking for more. Throwing your head back onto his chest as one hand wrapped around your throat, the other holding your waist.

‘Not satisfied darling?' He smirked against your skin, picking up pace as he pounded into you. Your tits moving with every thrust, the sound of skin filling the locker room.

‘You're so fucking tight.’ He grunted into your neck. 'It's like you were made to take my cock. Look at you, taking my cock like the good girl you are. Who would’ve thought you were so sick and twisted?’ You felt a new bundle tighten in your stomach. ‘Fucking in a school locker room covered in blood. God made me immortal because you are my match. Fuck, you feel so good.’

Those words felt like fireworks exploding inside of your gut.

‘Shit!’ You cried out in ecstasy, as he pulled you into a climax, sending your body over the edge. He kept on thrusting, overstimulating you, until moments later, he reached his high as well, and filled you up with his cum. Klaus stayed inside of you for a few seconds, breathing heavily as a sweat pearl rolled down his forehead, holding you tight in case your legs were to give in.

‘Your body was made for me.’ He huffed. Klaus slid his cock out of you, staring at you, slowly lowering you to the red messy floor, setting you down before laying down next to you, holding his head up with the palm of his hand.

You took a few seconds to breathe, catching your breath as your high started to fade, catching a glimpse of the body up high. ‘You can’t leave that there. I’ve got class at seven in the morning.’ You mused, gazing at Klaus who had blood spread across his chest. He looked so hot you could fuck him again.

‘Don’t worry, love,’ he reached for the bag behind him. ‘I know how to clean up messes. I’ve done this for over a thousand years.’ He placed a cigarette between lips, pulling out a lighter and taking a drag of the hot smoke. He truly was irresistible.

‘Have you killed a lot of people?’

‘Yes.’

You grabbed a knife that laid behind your back, the knife Klaus probably used to cut certain parts of Connor. ‘Would you kill me?’

Klaus took another drag over the cigarette, the smoke making his voice sound deeper than it was. ‘No.’ He shook his head.

‘Would you kill for me?’

Klaus stared up at Connor pointing at him, ‘You have to ask?’

‘There’s this guy, Dean Gabriel. He took away the only person I ever loved.’ You said, staring at the knife, feeling Klaus prop himself up. ‘He violated my sister. Made her feel disgusted, defiled her without her consent. She took her own life because that man ruined her life in twenty minutes. And whilst she is no longer here, he gets to roam around like nothing happened…’

Klaus leaned forward, his voice sounding huskier, ‘Just tell me where he is and he won’t see any more sunrises after I find him.’

Gazing at the knife, you swung your leg over Klaus to straddle him.

‘Promise me he’ll suffer.’ A tear fell down the apple of your cheeks, ‘I want it to be painful.’

‘I promise.’

You lowered yourself to kiss him, your tears mixing with the blood on your face as your heart was finally lighter than it had been for a while. All because of a surprise you enjoyed more than he had anticipated.

[figsnpassionfruits]

Show Me

a/n: wheewww this was super fun to write. this takes place after the events of DP&W so i hope it clears up the confusion. have fun reading <3 word count: 2.7k tags: worst!logan x fem!reader (can be read as gn!) warnings: angst, smut, not feeling loved enough, rough sex?, mentions of fighting, being addicted to a person basically dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest

It had been days since you had last seen him. “Don’t worry ‘bout it” He would say, not wanting to merge his rugged life with the domestic one he had built with you. It was common for his episodes to play out like that. Logan would leave to god knows where, taking care of business, not that you would know what was meant by it, and return a few days later. He could call you, let you know that he was okay; but he never did.

Each and every time you would cuss at him, more mentally than physically. How dare he just leave and return whenever it pleases him? How dare he only have a relationship with you when it was convenient for him?

But you could not resist.

No matter how angry you were at him, all what mattered during his returns was that he was safe and that he came back to you. You wanted your rage to overweigh, you really did. But your heart had other plans.

Once the door unlocked you knew what would come. The same fight all over again.

You were in bed now, curled up into a ball under your shared blanket, his distinct smell still lingering on the fabric. Faced away from the door, you hoped he thought you were asleep. There was only so much energy one could withhold. Maybe yours was drained already. If you were lucky, he would just get into bed with you and hold you. Perhaps then you could pretend that everything was okay. That this was not sucking everything out of you.

Nevertheless, his heavy footsteps soothed you. Gosh, you really did not want them to. And sometimes, you really did not want to love him the way you did. Was he everything you wanted? Yes. Would he give you everything you wanted? Sure. But fuck, could he stick around for more than a single week before having to go again? No.

As he stepped into your room you instinctively shut your eyes. You could hear him stand still once he reached the doorway. A loud sigh escaped his mouth, and he walked off once again.

After a few moments you heard water splashing against natural stone.

Relieved that you had another few minutes to yourself, you turned onto your back, your eyes fixated on the ceiling as you became lost in your thoughts again. There you were in the bed of your boyfriend, waiting for him to join, having to act like he just completed a normal day at work. It was sickening. You knew this would be a part of it. Hell, you agreed to it. But now that you were in the situation you were not sure whether you could handle it anymore. If at least he would tell you; not hide his life from you; maybe you could deal with it differently.

Logan told you in the very beginning that he did not want you to know anything about the other side of him. You agreed to it. He told you he did not want you to ask him any questions. You agreed to it. He told you that everyone in his other universe got hurt because of him. He told you he did not want to make the same mistake. He told you that you would only be allowed into a fraction of his life. And you agreed to it.

Maybe you should not have.

He fully walked into your room now, the scent of his shampoo filling your nose as he carefully dropped his weight onto the mattress next to you.

You were back into your previous position now, curled up and facing away from him.

Once under the covers, Logan lifted your head gently and reached an arm under your neck, his other finding its way to rest over your midsection. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling your smell.

He missed you. He really did. And you knew it. And that hurt even more.

Placing a hand on the side of your face, he tilted it up, delivering the softest kiss to your temple.

This was exactly what broke you every time. The softness Logan possessed was nothing you ever had expected from him when you first met. He simply did not seem the type. But after cracking him open, you could tell; this man was the softest lover.

Out of sudden he pulled you closer by your waist, your rear now fully curled into his front, fitting into him like a puzzle piece.

Not able to do any different, you leaned into his touch, wiggling your hips against his groin slightly.

He chuckled once and paid the attention of his lips to your neck this time, mumbling against the soft skin. “You awake, princess?”

You nod and hum slightly, shifting your frame so you could look at his face.

There it was.

The face you fell in love with.

You wanted to yell at him, hit him and tell him to leave. But you could not. Not when he was staring at you like you were the most precious thing he laid eyes on. Not when his eyes sparked that way in the dim light of your bedroom.

“You were gone for so long this time.” You whispered.

“I know.” He replied, kissing your forehead as a silent apology. “I’m here now.”

“Wish you would’ve let me know you were okay.”

“I know.”

This again. He was openly admitting to knowing that his actions hurt you. But his wording made clear that he was not going to change that.

As if he could read your mind, Logan continued talking, his index finger moving lose strands of hair from your face. “It’s dangerous to reach out to you while I’m gone. Never know who is tracking anything, love. I told you this.” He kissed your temple again. His body language was screaming at you that he was sorry, but his words were just scrambling excuses and reminders to you. It was confusing. Were you supposed to be mad at him or forgive him? It always ended up being the same anyway. But it should not.

“I just miss you, Lo.”

Logan let out a sigh, his eyes now on the ceiling.

When no response came, you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at him. “You could say that you missed me too.”

“I did.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes now turned to yours. The tension of the eye contact sped up the beating of your heart. He must have noticed, due to the fact that he now had a hold of both of your hands with a single one of his, rubbing small circles on them in an attempt to calm you down. “Yes, I am sure.”

Another moment of silence passed again; the both of you just looking at each other.

“You have to change, Logan. I cannot keep living in this house alone for the majority of the time, asking myself whether you are coming home or not.”

“I know.”

“That’s it?”

Logan cocked a brow at your words, seemingly surprised at your snap.

“That’s all you’re gonna give me? ‘I know’?”

“Well, what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything, Logan, I just want to feel loved and not like just some side piece that you can conveniently return to whenever you’re done with a job!”

He did not expect you to raise your voice. Neither did you.

Logan kept a blank stare at you, not sure how to respond. He knew that you were right and he understood your feelings. That was the problem. It was not about convincing anyone about who had a point, it was more about a behaviour that he was struggling to change. Logan was in a constant turmoil with himself, having to weigh out how to protect the people he was close to as well as having to protect himself. He knew that you should not feel like an option; he knew that. But all those years of self-loathing did not teach him how to show it.

“Darlin’, I-“

Without letting him answer to your rant you leaped forward, engulfing him in a rough and fast kiss. Your hands immediately found their ways to the side of his face and his curls.

Logan copied your action, his lips slightly chapped as your kiss deepened more and more.

Allowing his tongue into your mouth, you moaned into him, pressing your front against his as your legs took over to straddle him. You could not control it. No matter how mad you were, all you wanted was him. Your kisses screamed out in desperation and the need to feel loved by him. It was not like Logan did not love you, but you would be lying if you said that having him gone all the time did not make you feel like it.

Logan set his hands on your ass, squeezing the flesh harshly as he pulled you even closer to him, making you hiss quietly. For a split second he pulled away, guiding your top over your head and throwing it to the side without taking his eyes off of you.

Leaning down into the next kiss, you gasped into his mouth. You leaned down to him, your already hot skin now clashing with the rough hair on his chest, causing you to feel a slight tickle.

“I missed you so much.” You repeated, whispering the words against his lips.

“I missed you too, love.” He replied, giving you a small peck after.

You cupped his face with your hands, rubbing your thumbs over his beard. “You can’t keep leaving me like this, Lo. I get so worried each time.”

Logan leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “We’ll talk about this again, alright? Lemme take care of you now.”

In a split second he had you on your back, his forearms holding his weight in order to not crush you underneath him. He leaned down to deliver a rough yet short kiss to your lips once more before moving his mouth down to your neck, kissing that sweet spot that made you squirm before sucking on it just enough to make you moan.

“Missed those sounds.” He mumbled, his hands travelling down your stomach and your hips, tugging at the sole fabric that was covering you.

Lifting your hips up, you allowed him to take them off, your eyes not leaving his as he inched further down to the end of the bed, lining his mouth up at your inner thighs.

Usually you would giggle at him, asking him to not tease you. But today you needed this. You needed to feel cherished. Needed to feel loved.

Once his tongue made contact with you; all the anger and sadness washed away. In this moment you were just with him in your shared home, your shared room and your shared bed. It was just you two.

After moaning his name over and over again, his tongue flicking at your bundle of joy, you had allowed to relax and to release yourself, panting as your rode out your high. Logan was whispering and mumbling sweet praises to you, but you were too lost in this setting to pick up on any of them.

Not wanting you to detach, Logan leaned back up to you, his lips hungrily launching onto you again. You tasted yourself on him as you kissed back, your hands on the back of his neck pulling him to you, desperate to want him closer. You leaned yourself further up, your hands automatically moving to get a grip of his now exposed cock.

“Uh uh.” Logan snickered, holding your wrist with a hand of his. “Today’s all about you, mkay?”

“But, Lo-“

“No.” Logan interrupted you with a kiss. “Stop.” Giving you a second to process, he lifted his brows, giving you a look, silently begging you to accept.

You nodded in reply, biting your lip as he flashed you that smirk that you loved so much.

“Good girl.”

Out of a sudden Logan pulled on your ankles, his frame now propped on his knees. You watched him as he spat on his hand, using it to stroke his dick for a few times as he lined himself up at you.

Licking your own fingers while keeping your eyes on him, you moved your hand down to your folds, rubbing small circles on your wet skin.

With the familiar feeling of a lover, Logan entered you slow yet easily. He leaned his body down to you, a hand of his moving your hair out of your face while the other kept a hold on the inside of your knee, tilting it in a way to allow him better access.

“You okay?” He asked you, giving you a small kiss on your lips before starting to move his hips lazily.

“Yea.” You whisper out, tangling the fingers of your hand into his hair.

Smirking at your words, Logan now sped up slightly, his hips clashing against yours in a more rapid pace, now forcing moans to escape your lips. Logan leaned his forehead against yours, his grip now on your jaw. He did not intend to place his thumb right next to your mouth, yet you could not resist.

Turning your head to the touch, you took his calloused finger into your mouth, sucking on it while fighting your moans from his thrusts.

The sound of your wetness mixed with the slapping of skins filled the room as Logan picked up the speed once more, setting it to a more brutal one that you were usually used to with him.

You let go of his thumb with a ‘pop’, leaning your head back into the pillow, moaning out his name.

Using that to his advantage, he dove his head down, nibbling and biting on the skin of your neck, making you audibly gasp in between your bliss. “Fuck, Lo.”

“Tell me what you want.” He mumbled against your skin, not slowing down his thrusts while he demanded an answer.

“Want you to take me from behind.” You managed to blurt out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head once he sped up even more for just a tiny bit.

Out of nowhere he pulled out harshly, not even allowing you to whine at the loss of him before he flipped you over effortlessly onto your stomach. Getting on top of you, Logan pushed his cock right back into you, returning to that pace he had set right before he pulled out.

It was too much for your body to handle and it responded with gripping the covers underneath it as hard as you could, your knuckles’ colour turning to pale.

“Yea, you like it when I fuck you like this?” He mocked you, fisting a hand into your hair and pulling you up to him. “You’re the only one I can do this to, alright? Only you. I’m yours and you’re mine, understood?” He asked through his rough thrusts.

The possessiveness in his voice made you clench around him, your eyes shutting in pleasure as his words filled your ears. “I love you.” You moaned out, a hand of yours now gripping his wrist hardly.

He chuckled and slowed ddown his thrusts for a bit before replying to you. “I love you too, sweet thing.”

Logan knew all you needed was to be fucked well enough to feel loved again. Was it healthy? Probably not. But it was better than fighting. And you hated to admit it.

Delivering a small kiss to your forehead, you whined against Logan, the feeling of fullness and love overwhelming you.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked, his hips slowly rocking against you.

“Need more.”

Logan smirked once more and sat up straight, his hands now on the sides of your lower back. You wanted him more and more. And he was going to give himself to you.

🍯

[star-sim]

sweater ☆ riki nishimura

☆ non-idol! bf! riki x fem! reader ☆ summary: when riki doesn't recognize a sweater that you're wearing, he gets insecure. ☆ genre: fluff, hurt-comfort ☆ warning(s)? insecurities and cheating briefly mentioned ☆ word count: 1.0k ☆ reblogs and comments are appreciated! also this was such a big trend in 2020 in the haikyuu fandom my god

“What the fuck, dude?!”

You head whipped around to see your boyfriend frowning on your bed.

It was another one of those nights.

Riki and you would stay together all night, either to study or just fool around. It was deeper into the night now. You had just gotten out of the shower, changing into one of your dad’s oversized sweaters that miscellaneously made its way into your laundry. You liked the way that it fit, draping over you comfortably.

You were peacefully doing your skincare routine when Riki’s outburst interrupted you.

With half-applied moisturizer, you cocked a brow at him, looking at your boyfriend over you shouldes.

“What happened?”

The wide scowl that broke out on Riki’s features was alarming. His brows knitted together and his lips curled. Riki let out an offended scoff, throwing his phone aside and jumping to his feet. He paced toward you with vigor, grabbing onto your shoulders.

“You know what you did, and you’re just going to act like you did nothing–?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Riki?” You clutched boyfriend’s shoulders, slowly pushing him away.

He didn’t move. His large hands squeezed your shoulders, his face contorting. Anyone would think that Riki’s face was painted with anger, but you knew better.

He was confused.

And distraught.

Riki sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, fingers brushing against the hem of your sweater.

For him, the issue was your sweater.

He’d never seen it before. 

These days, Riki was feeling insecure.

All throughout high school, you were endlessly popular. Riki would be lying if he said he never felt a tad insecure. There were so many guys that still pined after you. So many guys that were ten times smarter than him. So many guys that were endlessly kinder than him. So many guys that had perfect temperaments and maturity. After all, why would you, the prettiest, smartest, strongest, and most perfect girl in the entire world, want to stay with someone as crass and needy as him?

Sometimes, words got to him. Those that knew about your relationship talked. And they never seemed to fully approve of the two of you being together.

She deserves better, was always the first thing that came out of their mouths.

And sometimes Riki agreed.

The thought of someone else holding you, someone touching you and kissing your lips, someone getting to gaze into your eyes and whisper those three words from their heart to you made Riki feel sick to his stomach. 

But he couldn’t help but feel inferior. Maybe someone else would be better for you.

So when he saw you wearing a sweater that he didn’t recognize, Riki’s insecurities got the best of him. You didn’t wear sweaters often, and if you did, it was always his. His sweaters were distinctly too big for you, always being oversized.

Which was why Riki’s mind ran wild.

Where did you get that oversized sweater if it wasn’t Riki’s?

And more importantly, who did it belong to?

“I know I’m not good enough for you,” Riki grumbled, “But you could’ve told me before you went off with another guy.”

“Wait, what?”

Riki looked down. If he looked you in the eye, he’d probably start crying. 

He didn’t respond.

“Riki, what are you talking about?” Your hand gently came up to grasp his cheek, which he pulled away from. “‘Went off with another guy’? What are you even saying?”

When he finally looked at you, you saw the hot tears that were lining his eyes. He pushed your hand away, quickly wiping his eyes.

You pushed him onto the bed, sinking down onto his lap. You caressed his cheek. 

“I’m not going to leave you, Baby,” you said. “I mean, there’s no one that I could ever like as much as you.”

You brought your fingers up to his eyes, gently pressing his eyes shut. Then, you leaned in to kiss his eyelids, then his temples. With your fist, you softly knocked on his head. “I always wonder what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Riki didn’t say anything. Instead, he melted into your touch, sliding his arm around your torso, pulling you closer to him. 

“I love you, Riki, I hope you know that” you said into his ear. “So I don’t want you to cry anymore.”

“I wasn’t crying,” Riki mumbled against your shoulder.

“Sure, Baby,” you patted the back of his head. 

After a few moments of silence, you asked, “What made you think that I would leave you?”

“Your sweater. I hate it.”

You cocked a brow. “Why?”

“Looks like some other dude’s.”

You shared another silence.

You let out a small, ‘ah.’ Getting off of Riki’s lap, you fingered the hem of your sweater. Riki watched you as you disappeared into your closet, before reappearing with another sweater. Making sure that he was watching you, you began to pull the polyester fabric over your shoulders.

“Wh-What are you doing?!” Riki rushed to cover his eyes.

“Relax, you big baby.” 

Riki hid behind his hands, watching from the cracks in his fingers. Pulling off the sweater that you were currently wearing, you shrugged on another sweater.

It had blue and black stripes, reaching down to the middle of your thighs.

This time, Riki recognized it. It was his.

“There,” you gave him a boxy smile. “Even though that sweater was my dad’s, if you don’t like it, I won’t wear it.”

Riki’s jaw dropped, before waving his hands out in front of him. “Nonono!” he spluttered. “I was being stupid. You can wear whatever you want!”

You put your finger on your chin. “Hmmm, but I think I like your sweaters more.”

Years into the future, you never let Riki live down the fact that he got jealous over a sweater. Riki didn’t care, though. The only memory attached to that little incident worth living for was when you kissed him and said, “I love you.”

[hayatoseyepatch]

Description: Smitten. We don’t always get to choose who our hearts call for. Just a collection of some of the wb characters who have a crush on their friend’s partner.  Charcters: Akihiko Nirei, Yamato Endo, & Haruka Sakura (feat. Chika Takiishi & Hayato Suo) Word Count:1.7k

Contains: Fem!Reader x Multiple Charcters. Smut and a bit of angst if you squint.

Content Warnings: voyeurism, threesome, panty stealing, degradation, praise, masturbating, p in v, hair pulling, slight dubcon, exhibitionism, dacryphilia, sharing.

Author's Note: WE’RE SO BACK!! Sorry I’ve been like mia, I had such an intense bout of writer's block, I thought it was going to be the end of me, truly. Thank you for being so patient with me. As always I hope you enjoy!

Nirei knew it was wrong, he knew it was. But that didn’t stop him from letting your name slip past his lips, the sound of it muffled by the fabric he had pressed to his nose. His eyes closed tight as he desperately fucked his fist, hips rutting up off the mattress wishing desperately that it was your soft velvety walls wrapped around his cock instead. From the moment the blonde had first laid his eyes on you he was smitten. His heart hammered in his chest from the moment, all those years ago, when you had first strolled into that classroom at Bofurin. The sound of your laugh is soft as a melody, your voice as sweet as honey. He was entranced by you.

He had gotten a new notebook after you first met. Fully intending to fill its pages with every single detail about you. He wanted to know it all, wanted to fill the notebook with the story of your lives. However, as time passed, it was impossible for him (or anyone else for that matter) not to notice the longing gazes you sent toward Sakura. The way your smiles were always the softest, the most genuine when being directed towards him. The way your flushed cheeks matched his own whenever near the other. The way you both looked at each other when you both thought no one else was watching. So it was with a heavy heart that he agreed when Sakura had come to him, asking him for his assistance in winning you over. He did promise he’d help him make it to the top, after all. Nirei wanted nothing more than to keep that smile on your face, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

That was years ago, but his yearning for you never stopped, so here he was a pair of your stolen panties gripped tightly in his fist as he inhaled your scent. The closest he would ever be to having the taste of your sweet pussy would be his tongue slipping from his mouth as he licked a fat stripe up the center of the soiled garment. His thumb brushes the sensitive underside of his cock’s tip, collecting the precum that had dribbled over, using it as makeshift lube. He imagined the way you would sound, having committed to memory the way your voice sounded saying his name. Enough that he could almost picture what you would sound like beneath him. How beautiful you would look, hair tousled as he rammed his hips desperately, aiming to hit the deepest parts inside you.

“Fuck.. Fuck..” He whimpered the familiar coil building in his stomach. Pushing the fabric past his lips was what sent him over the edge, crying out your name around the material as he paints his hand and stomach with his own cum. Lying there, catching his breath, knowing that the next day he’ll overhear you talking to Kotoha and Tsubaki about having another pair going missing. Never knowing full well it was him who had snuck them into his pocket on his last sleepover at you and Sakura’s shared apartment.

“Stay still.” The words are accentuated with a harsh slap to your inner thigh, cutting off the attempts to give yourself some modesty from the piercing blue eyes locked on your form in the corner of the room. You were spread wide on Chika’s lap, him buried in your depths, the head of his cock kissing your cervix in a way that made tears well up in your eyes. That coupled with the humiliation of being entirely bare spread open for his friend’s hungry gaze. “You're already crying?” Chika tsks, his monotone voice sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ve barely even touched you yet, all you did was take me inside.” He lures you into almost a false sense of comfort as he tucks your hair behind your ear. But you knew better. Nothing about Chika was comforting, especially not when he was punishing you and Endo. Especially not when his lips pressed to your ear, words dripping venom as he spoke. “Such a fragile thing you are. I wouldn’t want to break my favorite toy and have to find a new one.”

He knew exactly what he was doing, the thought of him replacing you sends a shock of fear coursing through your system. Now with a new sense of determination, you begin to move. Planting your hands on his thighs as leverage to start bouncing on his cock, a crude squelching noise filling the room from your wetness. You throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as you move. You could barely hear rustling in the corner, far too lost in the feeling of Chika stretching you so deliciously. Endo watched the scene unfolding before him, cock painfully hard, trapped within the confines of his tight jeans. Unable to do anything due to the restraints that locked his wrists to the chair he was sat on in the corner of the room. 

He was salivating, the way your body moved on top if his best friend, watching the way your cunt swallowed him whole, the bounce of your tits as you rode him with reckless abandon had him thrashing in his confines. He was desperate to feel you, fuck, he’d even accept being able to jerk his cock as he watched the two of you. Chika had been less than satisfied to hear of Endo’s infatuation with you, seeing the way he looked at you. Eyes devouring your frame, lidded and full of lust. Knowing his head was filled with endless fantasies of what he would do to you if given the opportunity. He needed to teach him his place once more it seemed. So he had invited him over, an offer the other man jumped at immediately. Only to find himself in his current predicament. Arms and legs restrained as he was forced to watch the two of you fuck. 

Chika gripped a fistful of your hair, forcing your head up off his shoulder. Making you lock eyes with Endo once more. His grip is hard words whispered harshly in your ear. “Don't take your eyes off him, I want him to see the look in your eyes when I paint your cervix with my cum.” Locking eyes with Endo through the locks of your hair. “And if he manages to behave himself I might just let him clean up your filthy cunt once I’ve had my fill.”

Your cries come out muffled by the palm of your hand, eyes blurry from unshed tears, trying desperately to keep your voice down so as not to get caught. “Aww, what’s the matter baby?” Suo coos, never once stalling in the slam of his hips. Looking more amused than even remotely affected by the feeling of your walls spasming on his cock. His hips never falter sending you backward with every thrust, hands gripping to the edges of the desk he was fucking you on in the empty room. Muffled sounds of the party you had both thrown filled your ears, a reminder that you both were not alone.

“Trying so hard to muffle those sounds, you’re so cute, baby. Don’t want anyone to hear how good I'm making you feel, hm?” He grins, pressing the pad of his thumb into your clit, rubbing tight circles that have your eyes crossing. He looks down at your fucked out expression, your pathetic attempt at silencing the sounds spilling from your lips failing miserably. He looks to the side, a mischievous grin overtaking his face. He grips your wrist, pulling it away from your mouth and pinning it beside your head. Before you could protest, his lips captured yours in a heated kiss. His tongue overtakes your mouth with ease, the movements of his hips slowing just a bit. A narrowed eye locked with the gap in the door, never ceasing the searing kiss even for a moment. When he finally pulls from you, the string of saliva connecting your lips snaps when he moves to press his lips to your ear. “But I think it's much too late for that, kitten.”

You and Sakura both freeze at the same time, bodies going rigid in shock. Suo halts every movement of his hips, cooing softly when you whine at the pleasure halting all at once. Turning to the door once more. “You know, Sakura, it's awfully rude to lurk in doorways.” He grins, relishing in the cry you let out when he lets out a harsh snap of his hips. “So are you going to stand there all day or are you going to come in and join us?”

Sakura had always thought you were beautiful. His eyes found themselves transfixed on your plump lips whenever you spoke to him, imagining how soft they would feel against his own. More times than he cared to admit had he thought of how you would look beneath him, plush thighs gripped by his calloused fingertips as his cock reaches the deepest parts of you. Those same lips crying out his name as he fucked you. So Suo was fully aware he would not pass up the opportunity to bring those fantasies to life. He was frustratingly perceptive, Sakura was sure he had noticed the longing looks he had sent your way. The longing looks, the lingering touches. He was sure he saw it all. 

It wasn't long before you were experiencing it for yourself. Sakura’s thick cock felt like it would split you open, the stretch having your back arching off the hard wooden surface of the desk. Suo’s teasing tone meets your ears. “Well, aren't you being well-behaved, such a good girl for Sakura aren't you kitten?” This spurs Sakura on, head bowing to take a perked nipple into his mouth, biting harshly, soothing it with a fat stripe of his tongue. Grinning against your skin, pushing himself upright, opening his mouth letting a glob of saliva roll off his tongue. Watching as it drips onto Suo’s cock, adding additional lubricant to ease the descent of his cock into the depths of your throat. A harsh slap to your ass echoes through the room, sure to leave a mark in its wake.

“So fucking good.’ His words come out in a growl, losing himself in the pleasure of your velvety walls. “Feels too fucking good baby girl. You keep clamping down on my cock.” he groans. “Keep sucking me in, I could fuck you for days princess. Could never get over how good this pussy feels wrapped around my cock.” As Sakura’s eyes meet yours, looking at your fucked out expression beneath him, all he could think of was how beautiful you were.  

Dividers by saradika-graphics. Writing & character banners by me. Special thanks to @eevees-hobbies for your suggestions/contributions. And just for putting up with me while this fic almost swallowed me whole.

[avatar-anna]

This is another tattoo artist! Harry x ballerina! Reader, but at the beginning of their relationship. You can find the first blurb here

"When can I see you again?"

Your cheeks betrayed your cool demeanor, something they'd been doing all evening. You wanted to appear not as nervous or giddy as you felt going on this date, as if you frequently went out with handsome, muscly tattoo artists. Was that the case? Heavens, no, but you didn't want to look like a deer in headlights all night, and the way Harry's eyes devoured you, the way his lips kept finding your neck or cheek, wasn't helping.

"I—I'm busy all w—week. Training."

Harry hadn't let up his ministrations on your jaw, making it ten times harder to speak to him than it already was. But that last little corner of your brain that wasn't totally consumed by him wiggled its way to the front, reminding you of your responsibilities.

"Mm. What about after?"

"After?"

You felt him smile against your skin, his knuckle grazing the side of your face. "Surely you won't be rehearsing all night. What time are you normally done?"

"Um...six, but I usually go to bed pretty early."

"Gee, bunny, you're making me think you don't want to see me again. Breakin' my heart here."

"I do!" you hurried to say, perhaps a little too quickly. But it made Harry smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I—I do. Want to see you."

"Tell you what," he said, leaning one hand on the door at your back, just above your head. "I'll pick you up from rehearsal and bring you home. How's that sound?"

"That's it?" you asked, intrigued by the suggestion. Your intention wasn't to be difficult on purpose, but you had a tight schedule as a dancer at a prestigious ballet company. You didn't date much because of it, most guys not considering you worth the trouble, but Harry had been persistent. You admired that about him, and it made you like him all the more.

"That's it," Harry promised, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Unless of course, you invite me inside your apartment and let me spend the whole evening taking good care of you, but I'll settle for a walk to your apartment."

He was so sure of himself, but in a way that was charming, not off-putting. He was all the time, to the point where you thought it was an act at first, which was why you initially said no when he first asked you out. But you came to realize that was just who Harry was—charming, easygoing, confident as all hell. You found it attractive now, though sometimes it made you feel like you were even more anxious than you actually were.

"It's a date."

Smiling, Harry kissed you long and hard one last time before stepping away. "Try not to think about me too much while I'm gone. Can't have you falling out of a turn and hurting yourself before I can take you out again properly, hm?"

You swooned as he walked away, leaning fully against your front door unashamed as you watched him get on his bike. He'd left it here while you walked to a restaurant a couple blocks away. The engine roared to life as Harry hit his foot against the kickstand, winking at you before driving off.

You should've invited him in, you thought as you finally turned around to unlock your door. But another part of you applauded your restraint. It was too new, your plate too full, to jump too quickly into something you weren't sure you were ready for. Slow and steady, you'd promised yourself when you first agreed to a date with Harry.

Still, when you went to bed alone that night, you couldn't help but think about his teasing about you caving and letting him inside tomorrow, and how nice it would've felt to have been tucked into his side as you fell asleep.

*.*

a couple weeks later

"Who is that?"

Your head whipped up from your phone, following your friend's line of vision. Immediately your cheeks flushed, the view nearly overwhelming you.

Harry leaned against the side of the building you emerged out of, one leg propped against it as he lit a cigarette, you narrowed your eyes a little at the smoke he puffed out, but couldn't help but admit the inherent sexiness he exuded from performing such a simple action. His tattoos were on full display, peeking out beneath his shirtsleeves and up his neck. Such a tough exterior for someone who was actually quite charming and soft.

"I don't know, but I want to."

You looked over to where your two friends were standing, drinking Harry in as he blew out smoke through his nose. Their gazes stirred something uncomfortable in you, a possessiveness over Harry that you'd never felt for anyone before.

"He's my ride," you said, even though you and Harry always walked home together. You'd casually mentioned walking by yourself or taking the bus once, and Harry had been appalled by the revelation. He'd been waiting for you after each rehearsal and class ever since.

"Oh. I didn't know you had a brother, Y/n," your friend, still eyeing Harry.

"He's not my brother. He's my boyfriend."

"He is?"

Ignoring their incredulity, you hiked your bag higher up on your shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry's head raised to look at you as you approached, a small smile forming on his lips as you drew near. "Bunny," he murmured before reaching for your hand and pulling you to his chest.

"Hi," you said a little breathless.

He took his time kissing you, one hand cupping the side of your face and the other on your waist but inching south where it would be a little inappropriate out in public. You pulled away, cheeks flushed for a multitude of reasons as Harry grinned at you and took your bag and slung it over his shoulder before starting on the walk back to your apartment. Sighing dreamily at him, you let him grab your hand and pull you along.

"Were you talking about me over there?" he asked, nodding behind him to where your friends were still standing.

"No—Yes," you admitted. "They think you're cute."

Harry's brows raised as if that was the last thing he expected to hear, as if he didn't know women didn't ogle him regularly.

"Really," he said as he began to walk down the sidewalk, your hand in his. "So you told them we were seeing each other?"

Your whole career was nearly solely based on your ability to be graceful, to appear weightless as you leapt through the air or stretched your leg high above your head as you balanced on the other. Yet when Harry asked that question, you stumbled. Enough that Harry placed a cautious hand on your elbow. You didn't expect him to hear what you had said to your friends, let alone question it. You'd not been seeing each other long in the grand scheme of things, so perhaps your statement was a little presumptive. But you didn't want your friends to think he was available, either. Now you worried Harry still believed he was.

"I know we haven't been seeing each other very long, but I didn't want them to get the wrong idea. I'm sorry if I've made things—"

"Relax, bunny, I'm only teasing," he said, leaning down slightly to press his lips to your burning cheek, nudging you with his nose once before pulling away. "But I like the idea of you being possessive of me. It's cute."

This was not how you wanted to have the "What are we?" conversation, but apparently it was happening. "I...I like you a lot. Like I said, I know it hasn't been long and our schedules are crazy, but I—I like you, and I feel like you should know that even if I could I wouldn't be seeing anyone else."

You purposely kept your eyes forward, not wanting to see Harry's expression as he took in what you said. He'd been nothing but a gentleman since you met him, but you also wouldn't be surprised if he was the kind of guy that liked to explore his options.

Harry didn't say anything for a minute, making you more and more anxious with each step you took. Maybe you should've waited until you were closer to your apartment. That way if he didn't reciprocate your feelings you could quickly hide and die from embarrassment alone.

Before you could tell him to forget it, Harry finally spoke. "You know I couldn't stop thinking about you after the first time I saw you?"

Your head whipped to meet his gaze, eyes wide. A faint blush dusted Harry's cheeks, something you'd never seen before. He'd been cool, calm, and collected since you'd known him, never once showing an ounce of nerves. Now he looked almost bashful as he walked beside you.

"Really?"

Harry briefly covered his smile with his free hand. "Really. I was crushed when you said no the first time I asked you out. And since you've said yes I've been trying so hard to impress you and be the kind of guy you'd normally be interested in. Shit, the guys at the shop give me hell because I wear shirts with less holes in them and walk with you everywhere because I know how you feel about riding on my bike and sometimes I stare at the clock or my phone like an idiot until I can pack up and finally see you. I've even been smoking less because I know you don't like it."

You didn't know any of that, but how could you? You smiled a little at the idea of Harry's friends teasing him, imagining him stressing about what to wear or what to say before a date the way you did.

"Harry, I—I don't want you to try to be anyone else," you said. "I mean, the smoking is a terrible habit and you should absolutely quit, but that's besides the point. I like you already. I liked you before you started buttoning your shirts more, and the motorcycle, while dangerous, is really sexy."

Harry's responding grin was immediate. "Sexy, you say?"

You scoffed. "Shut up. I've seen the way you look at me while I stretch."

"It's because you give me so many ideas when you do," he said. "So many ideas, bunny."

Your entire body warmed, the suggestion in Harry's tone impossible to ignore. You hadn't slept together yet, though not because neither of you wanted to. You liked to be sure about a guy before taking that step, and Harry had been understanding and waited for you. After everything you talked about on the walk to your apartment, you wanted nothing more than to pull him inside with you.

Neither of you spoke for the short remainder of the walk, but Harry's arm eventually draped over your shoulder and you were tucked into his side. His hand played with the ends of your hair, distracting you while you tried to decide whether or not to throw caution to the wind and let him into your apartment.

When your apartment finally came into view, you snuck a hand beneath Harry's shirt, running your hands along the solid planes of his stomach casually. "About those ideas..."

"I know, I'm sorry I brought that up when I'm just dropping you off. We'll have to—"

"I have ideas too," you said, trying your hardest to keep your voice even as you took the final steps to your door. Untangling yourself from Harry, you fished in your bags for your keys. "Maybe...Maybe you can come inside and I can show you?"

Harry's eyes widened, clearly not anticipating the direction of the conversation. "Are you sure? I know you have to be up early and have a whole routine and everything."

He was too sweet. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to do nothing more than to join you but was respectful enough of your space to walk away. But you knew what you wanted.

"You can be part of my routine," you said. Unlocking the door, you turned to face him. Your hands shook a little, but your voice was clear, if not hushed despite being alone, as you said, "You can help me stretch and relax before bed. Don't you want to help me, daddy?"

It was a bold choice, letting that little vulnerability slip. Very few knew about your...preference for a certain moniker, and you'd never brought it up to partners in the past. But this was Harry, who you liked so much and trusted even more. You wanted to share that side of you, even if it made your cheeks flame to say it before you were safe within the confines of your apartment. but you figured you'd revealed so much already, what was one more thing? At least that was what you kept telling yourself.

And guessing by Harry's reaction, it paid off.

"Yea—Yeah. Course, bunny," he said after swallowing. "How do you normally start?"

You grinned. "I like to take a shower. Or a bath, depending on my mood."

Harry picked you up by your waist, causing you to squeal. His lips didn't leave your neck as he asked, "Which one is big enough for two?"

"I barely fit in my bathtub," you giggled against the vibrations from his voice and the giddiness you felt at being held in Harry's arms.

"Shower it is then," he said, kicking the front door shut behind him and locking it quickly. "I'm gonna need to hear that at least three more times tonight. At least."

You began kissing Harry's neck instead of answering, still a little embarrassed that you'd said it at all. Harry seemed thrilled, and part of you was thrilled that it all worked out in the end, but it would take more coaxing than that before you worked up the confidence to call him "daddy" again.

"Don't be shy, bunny," Harry teased. "I'm proud of you for being so forward. Think my good girl deserves a reward, hm?"

You could only whimper with anticipation as Harry deposited you on the limited surface of your bathroom counter. As he shrugged out of his shirt, then his socks and shoes, then his jeans, revealing his body little by little in all its tattooed glory, you couldn't help but feel as though life couldn't get any better than this.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 5

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: guys this not fully proofread as I am exhausted | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat

You cannot tear your eyes away from Daemon as you walk down the halls together. Though he already told you the blood on his armor was not his, you could not help but worry that perhaps he had a wound hidden away underneath his steel plate. Your stare is so heavy, he's unable to ignore it, thus why he huffs, "out with it."

You perk at his words and rub your hands together.

He raises a brow at you, "or do you merely think me so devastatingly handsome you cannot help but stare?"

You slowly shake your head, "are you certain you are unharmed?"

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks forward, "I am offended you did not agree."

You knit your brows, "you," you shake your head, "already know. You are comely husband."

He turns back to you.

You cannot name the expression he gives you.

"Did I not say I was unharmed?"

You stop in your tracks out of frustration, grabbing his arm, "Daemon."

He turns to you, face hardening at your look of concern.

"If you are hurt, then we should head for the maester's."

He chuckles under his breath and pulls away, "a funny thought coming from you."

Your brows furrow deeper as you tail after him, "I do not follow."

He looks over his shoulder, lips curling, "considering you are sick and yet nowhere near the maester's ward."

You only then recognize his smile was mocking. You feel a pinch in your chest. You shake your head, "we are not the same. If there was something to be done about my affliction, my father would have seen it done years ago."

Daemon laughs.

You wait for him to explain his laughter, but he does not. You take his arm again, "what amuses you?"

Your husband looks at you, then at the hand you had on his bicep, "through it all, you hold your father in such high regard."

You clench your jaw and release his him.

He enjoys your dejection, thus why he takes your hand, placing it back in its place with a chuckle, "say it isn't so— I dare you."

You look back at him. His smile is like a needle through your heart. He must think you're stupid without even trying. You mutter, "I am merely stating facts."

He laughs again, "your frail heart keeps you naive."

The feel of his armor is suddenly scorching and you have to pull away. He stares at you after the fact, but does not take your hand again.

You do not speak until you reach the door to the meeting room. Once there, Daemon motions with his head, "wait for me. You like flowers don't you?"

You look over your shoulder and realize that he was motioning to the window that gave view to the gardens. You turn back to him and step forward, reaching out to retrieve the flower in his hair. It would not be appropriate for him to attend a council meeting like this.

Daemon mistakes your action for affection, and moves his head away so you cannot caress his cheek, "I said I am unharmed, woman. Now go sit down."

He walks off after this, leaving you standing in the middle of the hall alone. Just as he enters the room, you struggle with yourself if you should call out to him or simply run up to him and snatch the flower off his head. But then, the moment is gone and he's already inside.

You cannot find it in you to sit as you overthink what would become of your husband because of the flower in his hair.

Just as you begin to pace around, you are rendered frozen when you hear your name get called.

Viserys smiles at you, as he and his council members walk over, "good morrow."

You make eye contact with your father, who was walking just behind the king, and lower your gaze as you curtsy, "your grace. A pleasant morning to you."

Viserys stops in front of you, clapping his hands once, "why, you look fetching my dear," his eyes examine your hair, and you, yourself, are reminded by the presence of the blossoms on your head, "did you pick those from the garden?"

You rise and smile at your husband's brother, shaking your head, "my ward, ser Erryk, was kind enough to- ..." you catch yourself amidst your confession, eyes suddenly darting to your father.

Otto's jaw is set and his eyes are already angered.

You gulp and decide to continue nevertheless, "...accompany me flower picking in the meadow."

Otto huffs audibly, but the king's reaction is so stark in contrast, your father does not have the opportunity to butt in this moment. Viserys claps once again and smiles, "oh good. Some fresh air always did help me. Of course, when I say fresh air, I really mean going on dragon back, but strolling in the meadow picking flowers is a fine pastime."

You are touched by the king's amicable sentiment. You repay his smile with your own, "I completely agree."

"I do not," Otto says, "what if you get an attack in the middle of the nowhere? What if the pain is too great and you are not brought home in time?"

Viserys and you turn to the Lord Hand. The king responds, "she was accompanied by her ward. Is that not why you requested one for her?"

"I requested a ward to keep her in check to prevent her from doing things that would cause her affliction to worsen."

You tense under the harsh sound of Otto's voice.

Viserys recognizes your discomfort and waves him off, "you needn't be so hard on your daughter. It is good for the spirit to reserve time frolicking."

You gulp the next time the king smiles at you. You do not smile back and merely curtsy at him. With that, he and his council members go into their meeting room and you are left alone once more.

The council members' muttering comes to a halt when they see prince Daemon in his seat.

"Kind of you to join us today, brother," Viserys huffs, "we were just talking about you."

Daemon eyes Otto, "the topic being my bride, no doubt."

Otto has to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he walks to his chair. His throat constricts, as if he was about to retch, when he sees the flower by his ear. He thinks of you and the flowers in your hair and figures Daemon did this to spur him in. He releases a deep breath to calm himself, "the topic being your power tripping with the City Watch last night."

Daemon glares at him. The king sits at the head of the table. The prince links his hands together, "you would know to mind your tongue, Lord Hand. I care little for the tears my wife will shed once I sever your neck from your spine."

"Daemon," Viserys snaps.

"And what I did last night was clean the streets from the putrid scabs of the city in preparation for my birth of my brother's child."

"And you exacted a very public show of extreme violence while doing so," Viserys leans on the table, "you maimed and mutilated peopl-"

"Criminals," Daemon whips his head. He raises his brows, "would you rather they strut free and continue stealing, raping, and killing in your city?"

"I would have them see justice."

Daemon chuckles dryly.

Viserys raises a finger, "your blade is not the writ of justice."

"Do you mean to tell me it's yours?" the younger Targaryen narrows his eyes.

"I AM THE KING," the elder Targaryen snaps.

The prince does not flinch, "speaking loudly will not make it truer, brother."

Needless to say, the meeting is coarse and uncomfortable.

You start from where you were sat by the window upon witnessing Daemon shove the meeting doors open. He storms out of the room grumbling and you have to gather your skirts to run off after him.

"What's happened?" you mutter when you reach his side.

He ignores you, simply continuing to march away with a storm cloud overhead.

You are partially surprised to find that he was heading towards your shared chambers. He shoves the doors open then marches towards your private baths. There, your tub holds steaming water. You were grateful the servants thought to prepare the bath here and not Daemon's personal quarters.

Daemon begins to callously remove his armor and immediately ceases when you come towards him to do it yourself. You look between his hard expression and hard attire, thinking of something to say to calm his down.

You think of nothing.

The moment he is free of his steel, he removes the rest of his garbs himself and steps into the tub. You meant to remove the flower in his hair but then he wordlessly offers you his arm, expecting you to clean him, and so you do without fuss.

In the quiet of washing and splashing water, you feel Daemon slowly begin to relax. He leans back, releasing a sigh as he shuts his eyes. You stare at him for a long moment. He is beautiful.

"Your father is a fucking cunt."

You purse your lips as you release his arm. He opens his eyes when you pull away, then watches as you circle around the tub. You sigh as you take his other arm and begin scrubbing it, "he is... sometimes unkind."

He scoffs, turning to you, "sometimes?"

You focus on his arm, unwanting to meet his gaze, "he was kind to my mother... I think. And to my brother... sister... sometimes."

Daemon watches you, brows furrowing, "and you?"

You shrug, "sometimes?"

"Why do you defend him?" he tilts his head.

Finally, you look at him. The glint in his violet eyes make him appear as though he genuinely wanted to understand you. You shrug once more and shake your head, "he is my father."

"He is a cunt."

You tilt your head, scooping water onto his arm, "surely you've thought the same thing about your brother." You look between his arm and his face.

Daemon does not respond. He does, however, pull away from you.

You stare at him, trying to anticipate his next move.

He motions with his head then leans back in the tub once more, "strip. You should bathe with me."

You stiffen at his proposal, but do not object otherwise. You gather your hair and turn around, "will you undo my laces?"

Daemon, for some reason, is taken aback by the request. There is something that swirls in his gut. Still, he moves towards you and undoes your ties, pushing your dress down after. You shudder when he frees you of your shift and strokes your spine with the back of his hand.

"The king demands we have a family dinner before the tourney tomorrow," Daemon mindlessly mutters, "you must wear something pretty."

You gulp when he kisses your shoulder and scratches your sides until he's cupping your breasts. You gasp and turn when he tries to pull you in. Finally, the flower in his hair falls off when your nails dig into his scalp as he kisses you.

By the time the water goes cold and your bliss from love making wears off, you are faced with the fact your neck and collarbones are covered in glaring purple and red marks again.

Daemon does not relent as you both dress. He is adamant in covering your skin with bruises and bites. You are not surprised that he makes you wear something that showcases your decolletage, but you at least find solace in the fact he makes you keep your hair down in its natural state.

The air is tense as your families eat dinner. You sit next to each other, with him to your right, followed by Viserys and Aemma. In front of the queen was Rhaenyra, then Alicent by the left, Gwyane, and finally your father, who sat before you.

There was something serene in the sinister way Daemon strokes your arm and pushes your hair back. You knew he was doing this to rile your father up, yet you did not know why your body found comfort in his touch.

Then, in a flash, you were nothing but uncomfortable when your twin drops his silverware and blurts out, "you will not lose your hand if it does not grope my sister as we feast."

Daemon, who had been rubbing the your back all the way to the side of your breast, turned to your brother, who sat across him.

Gwayne clenches his jaw, expecting him to pull away.

Instead, Daemon moves your hair to one side of your shoulder and caresses your neck with the back of his hands, "oh, but you see, now that I've..." he smiles, "sampled your dear sister, I fear that it might."

Otto is next to drop his utensils. Your body burns at Daemon's words but you can do nothing but lower your head in mortification.

Viserys sniggers. Aemma glares and nudges him.

"You would not understand this, for you are unmarried," Daemon says turning his head, "but perhaps your father will."

Viserys nearly chokes on his meal, but then clears his throat, "brother-" he withholds his laughter, "-that is quite enough." The king looks at the faces across the table, none of them but him and Daemon finding this predicament amusing, "I'm sure everyone is... overjoyed that you and your bride have found marital bliss, but do keep your manners," he nods, "you are seated before the king."

Daemon turns to Viserys and straightens up. He nods, "my king."

Viserys clears his throat again and nods, "manners, brother."

"Hmm, like you with Aemma?"

Rhaenyra slams her hands on the table, pushes her chair back, and stands. All turns to her and her sour expression as she speaks, "I'm quite finished with my food. If I may be excused... my king."

Otto stands next, his chair skidding behind him, "I am quite finished with my food as well," he nods at Viserys, "I wish you a good meal."

Your belly rolls when he looks at you.

"Daughter, might you walk me out of the room, there is something I wish to discuss with you."

"She is quite busy with her food," Daemon immediately answers for you, "if you wish to speak something, speak it in front of us."

Your throat tightens.

"Tis a personal matter," Otto speaks firmly, "I would not put my child in an uncomfortable position."

Gwayne watches your expression, feeling restless because of your glaring discomfort.

"But you've already done so announcing your desire to speak to her so that she could not refuse," Daemon snaps.

Your chest begins to constrict. Gwyane picks up on how your breath quickens.

Otto clenches his jaw, "I wish to speak to my daughter."

"Yes, and I say fuck off."

"Daemon," Viserys finally snaps, turning to the said man. The king turns to you, peering past his brother, "you may speak to Otto if you wish, or you may simply continue with your meal."

You turn to your skirt and clench the fabric in your hand.

Daemon rubs your nape and your skin reacts with goosebumps. You gasp when his hand is snatched away by Viserys. You turn to them, struggling to breathe as you watch them bicker in High Valyrian.

Aemma tries to interject, but the brothers do not acknowledge her.

"Sister," Gwayne calls to you.

You want to turn to him, but you fear you will crumble in tears if you do.

The room is silenced when you stand. You feel everyone's gaze on your skin. "I wish-" you speak through a heavy breath, "-to retire."

You run out of the room before anyone can respond. Your heart drums in its cage but you tell yourself to run and to keep running.

Gwyane stands, ready to chase after you, but Daemon blocks him and their bodies violently collide. Daemon shoves him back and Gwyane is about to lunge at him but hears the voice of her baby sister calling his name in concern. His face twitches as he holds himself back.

"She is my wife," Daemon says.

"Then fucking go after her," Gwayne snaps, raising an arm, "she'll be heading to the temple, undoubtedly, which is outside the Keep, if you are not aware."

"Go on!" Otto snaps, pointing a finger, "chase after her."

Daemon seethes at the instruction. Dare he? He'll break the arm that fucking finger is connected to. He wants nothing less than to do what that cunt says.

"Go to her, Daemon," Viserys urges.

He glares at his brother, offended by his alliance with the fucker. Now he is really not going to do that. He's left with no other choice but to leave the damned dining room though. How lucky of him to run into the Cargyll twins on his way out.

"You," Daemon barks, calling the attention of the two men. He marches over to them, hands balled tightly into fists.

"My p-"

"The fucking Hand has upset the bitch again," the prince snaps, "she's run off in a fit to gods know where."

The two watch the prince have a hissy fit in High Valyrian before realizing he referring to his wife. Arryk says, "the princess has run off at this hour?"

"Her cunt twin said she'd go to the temple, but maybe she's fallen dead halfway through her sprint."

The twins turn to each other in horror.

"Ah, if only the gods were that kind," Daemon scoffs then looks between them, "find her. I do not wish to hear her pathetic sobbing."

Erryk's nostrils flare. Arryk clenches his jaw and nods. The latter begins to walk off and has to reel his brother by the arm to follow.

Daemon storms off to the dragon pit.

Arryk eyes his brother. Erryk's eyes remain on the prince, until his twin calls his attention.

You arrive at the temple of the Seven, forehead and nape sheened over with sweat. You nearly collapse before the Mother. The only reason you do not, is because two septas catch you before you collide with the shrine of candles. Upon recognizing you, they are quick to attend to you, saying they will get you water and a towel.

Running is a horrid activity that seems to only more horrid each time you do it. You find that your heart cannot keep up, and you are pushed into horrible breathlessness. Your father was strict to never let you run. You do not know if it is simply because you are not capable of running or because of your affliction that made it so.

You thank the gracious septas for their care and ask them if they would pray with you. Unable to deny you, a woman so devout and so... pitiful, they help you get on your knees and you recite The Mother's prayer together. At some point, you begin to weep, and once more it becomes increasingly harder for you to breathe. The septas have to stop praying and attend to you again.

"Princess!"

You are made to sit down on the floor. The two septas are replaced with two men, both dressed in steel, one as seemly as the other, albeit the mark of abject concern on their face. You frown as you look between Arryk and Erryk's worried features. Your scratch your eyes as they speak to you. The weight in your chest makes it hard to understand.

You hiccup as one of them scoops you into their arms. You do not realize you were being carried out of the temple until you are outside. "Wait," you sigh when you managed to catch a breath, "wait."

Whoever is carrying you does not hear it, but his brother does. He says, "wait, Erryk. What is it, princess?"

"I wish to pray," you mutter, eyes still wet with tears, "please."

Arryk looks at you. Erryk shakes his head, "we have to bring her inside."

"Erryk," Arrryk knits his brows, "she wishes to pray."

"She is in no condition to—" Erryk's words falter when your hand comes to his cheek.

You feel your lips tremble and you barely manage to speak, "please."

A line forms between his brows at the sound of your weak voice, "my prin-"

"Erryk," you stroke his cheek, "I need this."

Arryk looks between you and his brother. He watches him sigh and turn back. He follows after Erryk as he goes up the stairs, back towards the shrine.

You are placed before the Mother once more. You sigh and allow yourself repose before shifting on your knees. The twins leave you to your prayers, standing by not too far off.

Erryk's eyes remain on you. Arryk's eyes remain on Erryk.

"You tread a dangerous path, brother."

Erryk does look away.

Arryk sighs, turning his gaze over to you.

You sit on your knees, one arm rested on the plinth as you take a stick and light it. You whisper, "mummy," then light a candle, "me," then light another. Your soft whispers flutter in the echo chamber.

Both twins feel fangs rip into their stomachs as they watch you. Erryk's features are more honest to it however, which is why Arryk catches it and speaks again, "you are sworn to her, you fool."

"And you are not?" Erryk snaps, turning to his twin.

The brothers stare at each other for a moment. Arryk purses his lips and tilts his head, "I am not in love with her."

"Then leave," Erryk motions with a nod. He shifts in his spot, linking his hands together as he turns back back to you.

Arryk snorts and clenches is hands. His ears perk at the sound of your hushed sobbing. His heart clogs his throat.

Erryk sighs through his nose, "you are still here."

"I cannot leave her."

Erryk turns to Arryk, "then you are just as foolish as I."

"I-" Arryk starts. He cannot look away from you, "... I am sworn to her."

"She is beautiful," Erryk says.

Arryk finally tears his gaze only to shoot his brother a warning look, but Erryk's eyes are back on you.

"She wove flowers into my hair mere hours ago," he knits his brows, "she laughed and beamed and glimmered," Erryk sighs, "now she crumbles and weeps and hurts."

Arryk knits his brows, just as deep as his twin's.

You wipe your tears as you soothe yourself. You voice goes low again as you continue to pray.

"I am not a fool," Arryk says

Erryk laughs dryly, turning to him, "very well. If y-"

"I know she is beautiful," Arryk cuts him off.

His lips flatten.

Arryk gulps, "outside and within."

"As I said," Erryk replies, "just as foolish."

"I do not understand what could posses someone to hurt such a creature."

"Perhaps there is no soul to posses."

Arryk shakes your head, "you cannot allow your anger to get ahead of yourself, fool. You are glad the prince did not notice."

"The prince is too caught up in himself to notice anything that does not directly a..." Erryk's words go dry.

Arryk knits his brows, finding his twin was staring at something behind him. He looks over, stiffening when he catches the very person they were speaking of walking over.

Daemon makes a beeline towards you. He stops just behind you, lips and brows tense at the sound of your evidently upset voice. "Should you be doing this?"

You perk at the sound of the voice and look over your shoulder. You stare at Daemon, unsure if you were imagining him or if he was really there. You find that you don't really care, "will you pray with me?"

He does not like that you do not answer his question. He shifts on his spot, "did you faint or fall out of breath?

You turn back to the candles, "you must not be real."

"What?"

"I do not think my husband would care," you mutter, clasping your hands together in prayer.

Daemon does not move.

"You would pray with me then," you add, "you are kind."

The prince's face contorts. He feels like he is choking. He comes to your side, slowly dropping to his knees. He clasps his hands together, propping his elbows in front of him. He is taken aback by how you rest your head on his shoulder with no hesitation. He stiffens and a part of his mind screams to shove you away. He does nothing of the sort however.

"I tire," you admit.

"Then we sh-"

"Tell him to grant me my prayer."

Daemon slowly turns his head to look at you. He sees the way the tears trickle down from the bridge of your nose, "tell who?"

"The Stranger."

Daemon turns to the statue of the Mother. He wants to be difficult and tell you to simply move to the other statue, but instead he asks, "what is your request?"

"Death."

He turns back to you, expecting you to name a name. You do not, so he asks again, "your father?"

Your brows furrow, "no."

He turns to his hands. An unnamable emotion seizes him, "so... your husband?"

You finally lift your head. You turn to him, a deep frown on your face, "I do not wish you harm, Daemon."

He turns to you.

New tears burn down your cheeks.

A new unnamable emotion seizes him at the sight of your wobbling lips.

The twins find themselves looking away when the prince wipes your cheek.

You lean into his touch, "I have prayed for the same thing every night since I was ten."

Daemon's forehead curls, "what do you pray for?"

"To die."

The hand he had on your face tenses.

"It is pointless," you push his hand away, retreating from his touch, "my pain does not subside. My heart and flesh grow weaker each day."

Daemon is uneasy as you turn back to the Mother. He shakes his head, "I do not think the gods listen to such sinful prayers."

"Sin?" you chuckle under your breath.

Somehow your laughter sounds sadder than your weeping.

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision.

The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

You stare at his outstretched palm, then look up at him as he stands. You are loathe to move. You do not think you can, even if you wanted to, "I tire."

He leans over, draping your arm around his shoulders, "I'll bring you to bed."

You say nothing as Daemon pulls you in and carries you in his arms.

For the final time tonight, another unnamable emotions seizes him. It only further intensifies when you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

[marthawrites]

Between the Covers

Modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend reader

Word count: 3.4k+

Can be read as a one shot but reads best as part two to Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

About: During a cozy night in at your place, Aemond discovers your new taste for “literature”. Upon confronting you about it he makes a deal. Part of you wants to say no… but, you ultimately agree to his terms.

Includes: Established relationship, fluff, teasing, banter, and smut featuring breast play (reader is implied to have sensitive breasts), minor vampire play, pussy eating, vaginal fingering, Aemond loses his mind at the mention of blood sucking, dirty talk, vaginal sex, and reader and Aemond say 'I love you'

Note: Hello lovely reader! This might be ooc for Aemond but it's ic for the Aemond in my heart! My heart and pussy wrote this so if you have a problem with it up take it up with them!! Reader is non-descript! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic ♥

Autumn turned to winter, then winter to spring, and things with you and Aemond were better than ever. According to Aegon the two of you were “disgustingly cute”, and Helaena, on more than one occasion, admitted how she’d never seen her little brother so happy. 

Alys, despite her best efforts, had been fully removed from the picture after the last big fight that had you and Aemond taking a long self-reflecting break. 

Perhaps the universe really did do you a favor by making you face an ugly side of yourself–jealousy, distrustfulness, suspicion. Was it fun to look at in the eyes? No. Absolutely not. But, it made you realize things about yourself which ultimately lead you and Aemond to give the relationship another chance: a real honest chance. 

He too was far from perfect and had his own baggage and scores to settle. But at the end of the day you two were fucking wild for each other. And that’s all that mattered.

While your third floor apartment wasn’t anything compared to the sprawling Targaryen estate, it was cozy and located in one of the nicer neighborhoods in King’s Landing. Any city had its slums and dark underbellies, but thankfully you didn’t have to deal with either of those. Inwardly you were convinced that if you did live in one of those shady places that Aemond would swoop you away to his own private quarter in his family’s mansion. The idea of moving in together had been hinted at a couple times and each time your belly–and heart–did flips. One day, sure, maybe. But, now? You hadn’t even been together for a year yet. Moving in together was a huge commitment.

Perhaps something to consider for your three-year plan. 

Or, one-year plan.

You both had a free day tomorrow, so Aemond took advantage of it and stayed the night. After dinner you took a shower and he waited in your bedroom, searching for something to watch. 

There were so many choices. Why was there always so many choices? It made it such a challenge to actually decide on something!

When you came out with damp hair and your favorite pajamas–a big shirt and cute underwear–you proclaimed, “I saw an A24 movie last night I think we’d both like!”

He looked over at you from where he lay lounging on your bed in black sweats and a white tee, barely contained amusement plastered on his face. “As much as I love those, I’m less interested in movies now that I’ve found this,” he said, holding up the latest book you’ve been reading. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Did you forget to put it back on your shelf? Warmth flooded your face. “Baela was talking about it and she talked it up so much I had to check it out!” You admitted a little too quickly, hiding an embarrassed smile behind a hand.

“Uh-huh,” he smirked. “Vampire smut? If you’re so bored by The Two Towers all you had to do was say something.”

Your eyes–no, your whole face–brightened with shared amusement. “What! No, it’s not smut. There’s plot!” You said defensively (perhaps not convincingly, though, with the giggle), as you hopped on the bed and straddled him. His slim hips fit so easily between your bare, soft thighs, it was almost criminal. Mischief sent his eye twinkling. You took the book from him and cleared your throat, preparing to read the synopsis on the back. “Listen, ‘kay? This explains it really well.”

“Already read the back,” he said, sly. “And comments on goodreads. Seems to be extremely popular with women. There were… lots of caps, exclamation points, sweaty face and fire emojis… rave reviews.” Sometimes when he smiled–really smiled–he had little dimples; they were out on full display, now. He ran his wide, warm palms up your thighs, thumbs skimming dangerously close to that delicate space between your thighs he loved so, so fucking much. “Do you want to know what my favorite part is though?” He asked as if it were a secret.

Goosebumps tickled your skin as he teased you. You didn’t bother to put a bra on and you suddenly became acutely aware of your t-shirt’s texture as your sensitive nipples tightened beneath it. How easily your body reacted to his. “What’s your favorite part?”

He took the book from you and opened it. Smirking, he read Baela’s note she left for you on a post-it sticky, his voice an octave or two higher: “‘chapter 32 might be the hottest thing I’ve ever read in a book. It will change your life.’” He peered up at you with an arched brow. “Have you got to chapter 32 yet?”

You were blushing and giggling and trying so hard to not rip the book from his hands and smother his taunting face with one of your many pillows. “Oh my gosh shut up you are terrible!”

He laughed. “You’re the one reading vampire smut!”

“There’s plot!”

Aemond flexed beneath you and the next thing you knew you were on your back beneath him. His long silver-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and it hung over his shoulder threatening to tickle your face. “My pretty girl still hasn’t answered me,” he said as he pinned you down, lowering to nip your earlobe. “Or will I have to use compulsion to get it out of you, hm?”

You felt his grin against your neck, heard it in his question, and before you could stop yourself a little moan escaped your mouth because he bit you. Really bit you. His teeth, clean and sharp, clamped around a mouthful of your neck. He drew it into his mouth, sucking, and–fuck it was hot–you then understood why women in silly vampire books gave in so easily to the predator. You knew your pulse had to be jumping right there in the flesh he held between his teeth. All those giggles from before vanished and were replaced with small gasps. You squeezed your hands over his shirt-covered shoulders, answering, “n-no… I haven’t read that far yet.”

He relaxed his mouth and licked up the same bit of skin he’d been biting, kissing it softly. “Good,” he replied. “You can read it out loud to me now.”

That perked you right up. “Oh my god Aem! No!” 

“But I’m sooo curious to know what happens when she goes inside the castle. I skimmed the last chapter you were on. Something about him loving the smell of her blood, barely able to control himself around her, and she’s stuck there with him now?”

You were laughing again. “You’re such an ass!”

“Those are very important plot points,” he said smoothly, matter-of-factly. “And it’s chapter 31. So all the tension will lead up to the famous chapter 32.” He kissed you as he spoke; your mouth, jaw, neck, collarbone, whatever he could reach.

You were still laughing, but his kisses relaxed you, too. You pushed your hands up beneath the front of his shirt and gently scraped your fingernails over his abdomen. His chest. You felt his muscles quiver slightly beneath your touch. You loved how his body reacted to you. While stroking between the patch of hair at the center of his chest, and the trail of hair below his navel, you asked, sheepishly, “what if I get embarrassed?”

It was his turn to perk up. Pulling back, he looked down at you with a mixture of deviousness and softness that had your heart flipping. “Let’s make a deal.”

“Why am I have scared to hear this deal? But… okay, let’s hear it,” you replied, smiling and biting your lip.

“As long as you keep reading, I’ll keep eating your pussy.”

Yet another wave of heat rushed to your face and along your spine. You really, really hoped Aemond couldn’t see the blush of your features. Knowing him, however, he probably did… or at least saw the spark of desire, excitement, and embarrassment in your eyes. “You really wanna hear me read this stupid book?”

He nodded. “Yeah. And I wanna eat you too. So, why not both?”

“Well, when you put it that way…,” you mumbled in agreement, grabbing your book and opening to where you last left off.

Aemond shuffled triumphantly and smiled one of those smiles that if he did indeed have fangs they’d certainly be showing. He kissed your throat as he pushed the bottom of your shirt up, grazing his fingertips along your belly as he did so, not stopping until the softness of your breasts melted against his palms. Squeezing the sensitive mounds, he gave your neck one last little nip before lowering to your bared tits. He made a noise in his throat at the sight of them–your pretty nipples peaked with need–and he held each in a hand. Looking up at you he asked, "how long do you think you’ll last reading?” He squished your tits together so your nipples were as close together as they could be. Hot mouth wrapped around one and he sucked, greedily drawing it into his mouth. He relished the sensation as well as your gasp of surprise. He relaxed his mouth and let your tit free only to repeat the motion to the other one.

Fuck. He’d barely started, you hadn’t even begun reading, and you already felt warm tension pull in your belly. Your breasts have always been sensitive. Sometimes when you were feeling especially needy, and Aemond especially wicked, he’d suck your tits until you came. Part of you wondered if he meant to do that now with how he lavished them. “Shit–Aem! Not long if you keep this up…!” You moaned, biting your lip again as your eyelids trembled closed. “Haven’t even let me start yet..!”

A laugh rumbled in his chest. “You’re right…,” he said, slowly circling his tongue around and between your nipples. “Go ahead and start reading then, baby. I’ll get nice and comfortable between these thighs.” 

True to his word, he did. Your boyfriend meant to murder you. Without a fucking doubt. Straight up murder.

With a shuddering breath you began to read aloud.

Aemond kissed over your covered pussy, not yet bothering to move your underwear aside or take them off. He wasn’t trying to be especially distracting yet, but he loved knowing you were wet and eager for him. He kissed the insides of your thighs–that impossibly soft dip where your thigh met your pelvis–and even the underswell of your asscheeks as your legs spilled open. He knew right where your clit was. He licked over it through your panties. Teasing. Coaxing. Hoping to hear your voice warble with want.

It did. There was no way you’d be able to keep this up for the rest of the chapter as well as the next chapter. The main female character, a human, had just re-dressed into something suitable for dinner. In this case, a gown that complimented the color of her skin and shape of her body. And the main male character, a vampire, was waiting for her to finish. Before this, the tension had indeed been all over the place. Blood, desire, lust, everything sinful about the undying charisma of vampires. At the end of the chapter she walked downstairs only to make him utterly darken with lust. And, at the end of the chapter, Aemond pulled the front of your panties aside to finally give the full length of your pussy a hot, slow lick. You gasped in time with the main female character’s gasp.

“Think he sinks his teeth into her pretty neck and finally takes what he wants?” Aemond asked, low and somewhat muffled, as he turned his gaze up to your heated face.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You half thought he was joking about the whole thing! But… then again, you knew Aemond pretty damn well by now and knew he wasn’t the prankster type. You moaned softly at the slow, wonderful feeling of his tongue on your clit. Then, you answered in a shaky breath, “it’s the temptation. He worships her. Or… at least her blood. He won’t tear her apart. He needs her.”

He made one of his classic little ���mmm’s in thought. “Keep reading, baby. I’m dying to see what happens.” Another lick, another kiss to your most sensitive bud, and a gentle suck. 

Fuck–if he kept this up?! Pleasure rippled up your body in goosebumps and your voice shook as you read into the new chapter.

Somehow the book tension intensified even further. Between that, and how Aemond continued to slowly eat you, your head felt dizzy. Really, honest to God, you didn’t know how much more you could take. Then, the next line started to crumble some of that tension: “The vampire lord kissed the top of the lady’s hand, and when he did his fingers grazed the delicate webbing of veins on the underside of her wrist. Her scent bloomed beneath him. A perfume. His jaw ached with the need to consume. To consume her.”

Aemond picked up pace, too, as did your pulse. He balanced you on the edge of bliss and wouldn’t yet let you go. 

You began to stammer over words. You even left some unfinished. Because now you read a scene that was strikingly similar to your current situation. The vampire had his lady laid back and sprawled on the staircase, her skirts bunched high, his starved tongue feasting between her thighs.

Aemond groaned appreciatively. He worked you higher and higher, selfishly making it harder for you to read out loud, and savored each and every little dip and rise of your voice. His good girl. So fun, and playful, and willing to entertain his silly ideas. God, he loved you. He memorized all the signs of orgasm in your body. He could hear them. Feel them. He knew you were getting close, but he didn’t want you to come yet. There was still more to be read. Right before climax could claim you, he stopped.

“Aemond!” You squealed, near breathless. You looked down at him, accusatory, blissful eyes glaring. “Not fair!”

“Did I forget to mention I’ll only let you come when I want you to? Sorry, love, my bad.”

“How convenient of you,” you retorted.

“Do keep going though? I have a feeling he’ll need a taste of her blood now that he’s tasted her cunt.”

Begrudgingly, you did. And, as luck would have it… (did he read ahead while you were in the shower!?): “The vampire lord’s cock strained in his breeches, throbbing with a pulsing need that sent his mind to delirium. He never craved anything so badly as he did her.”

Aemond made more of those ‘mmm’s in agreement as he started to slowly work you up again. He pressed his tongue into you and let his nose rub against your clit. His hands rubbed and squeezed over any part of your body he could. Waist, belly, hips, thighs, anything; he loved all of it. He could lay here and do this all fucking night–vampire smut or no.

It became harder and harder to keep reading. Between little moans, whimpers, and firm bites to your lip, you kept trying. By now, the chapter progressed to both of them in various stages of undress on the staircase. “The vampire lord claimed her body with his hot, rigid manhood. At the same time he filled her with his cock, he sunk his teeth into her neck.”

After that you were no longer able to make words. A finger replaced Aemond’s tongue as his mouth lavished your clit. You dropped the book and neither of you seemed to care anymore. One of your hands gripped into his hair–more than likely making the sleek pull back of his ponytail a mess–while your other hand played with your breasts. Seemingly effortlessly, a second finger joined the first and your hips rolled in a desperate need for more. “A-ah yes!”

A soft dark laugh rumbled from him as he watched you from below. “You’re so fucking wet your pussy just sucked my finger in. I barely had to move it. Getting close again, my love?” He asked as those two deft, long fingers worked your inner walls with blinding precision. “I love how you were blushing and fumbling with your words when you read. Fuck–you’re so pretty with my fingers in you.”

A familiar tightness began to build in your legs. The inside of your thighs started to tremble. Your head, fuzzy as it already was, buzzed with your body’s anticipation. Pleasure. So much pleasure. Your fingers tweaked your nipples for that extra little push, and apparently that’s exactly what you needed.

Aemond’s tongue was on your clit again, quick and light compared to the harsh way he fingerfucked you. This time he didn’t edge you along.

Orgasm, beautiful and consuming, swallowed you into a starless dark. When you came back to yourself your head was heavy. The tips of your fingers tingled. Everything felt light. Like you weren’t quite inside your own body yet. “What the fuck Aems…,” you whispered, smiling like a dork.

That was one of the best orgasms and he fucking knew it. He had to know it. 

He carefully rolled away from you to let you catch your breath. “Better than the book?”

“Without question.”

He grinned as he watched you regain yourself. Once he was sure you were okay he pulled you on top of his naked form. When did he take his clothes off? “Always so sweet to me,” he said with that same grin. “I can still taste you on my tongue and need to feel you on my cock. Now.”

You didn't need to be told twice. Your body was ready for him as soon as he moved you atop him. He looked so good, so handsome, so devastatingly perfect as he sat there against your headboard, your bodies meshing together so well. His lean arms wrapped around you, nails scratching down your back, as you lined up with him.

The stretch was unfuckingbelievable. 

Moaning in unison, he rolled his hips up into you with one hand gripped on your waist. Your breasts squished against the firm planes of his. Your scent, your skin, your lust all around him. The squeeze of your cunt around his entire length had him half crazy. There wouldn't be any more teasing. 

You ground onto him, desperate to fuck him as silly as he had fingered you. 

One of his hands gripped the hair at the back of your head and tugged downwards, exposing the fullness of your throat to him. Your neck. He bit you again–all but sinking his teeth into your flesh–and fucked up into you with added fervor. 

“God!” You squeaked, whimpering through your surprise. “Yes, yes, yes, keep biting me..!” You pleaded, bouncing on him in time with his upward rolls.

That's how you both stayed–his teeth on your neck, your fingernails leaving pink scratches on his pale skin, grinding and fucking each other with raw desire–until climax washed over both of you.

You were both panting, a little sweaty, and intoxicated by each other.

A couple minutes later, amidst pillow talk and teasing one another, Aemond asked, “would you read more to me another time?”

You looked at him cheekily. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I’m very interested in the plot,” he said with obvious innuendo. “And I don’t think you quite understand what you saying words like ‘cock’ ‘cunt’ and ‘blood sucking’ does to me.”

That sent you into another fit of giggles. “You’re insane!”

He rolled on top of you and smirked down at you. “Well?” He asked, grazing the tip of his nose against yours.

“Okay, okay. Yeah, I will.”

Pulling the blankets up around your bodies, you turned on the movie you mentioned earlier. Aemond laid on his back and scooped you against him, legs immediately intertwining with one another. Sated. Happy; even as your skin pleasantly burned where he left dark hickies behind.

“Thanks for that. It was a lot of fun,” he whispered against the crown of your head.

“Yeah it was,” you agreed. “I love you, Aem.”

“I love you too.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

See comment section for my main taglist and Aemond taglist! To be added or removed from either, please hit me up!

[yan-critter]

Yan!Toji x GN!Reader (Smut, Dubcon, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, No gendered terms but reader is receiving)

Service top!Toji who can't get enough of seeing you come apart underneath him. Afterall, you're at your most docile when he's got you drooling into the mattress.

Be it toys, his finger, tongue, or his dick, just be sure that Toji will use absolutely everything and anything at his disposal to turn you into the pliant little lover he adores.

It drives him wild to see you go completely braindead while he fucks you within an inch of your life. Legs thrown over his shoulder and locked in place with a single muscled arm as his free hand makes itself useful between your thighs. The added stimulation leaving you reeling until you're blubbering and sobbing pathetically beneath him.

Thrashing and beating your fists weakly against his hold as you hiccup, you cling to your last bits of resolve. But none of it is helping ground you, and you can feel your composure slipping with every resounding smack of his hips against yours. He's practically bouncing you on his cock at this point, and you can't help the hot tears that slip down your face from sheer arousal. Your eyes roll back and tremors rack your body at the onslaught of pleasure hitting you all at once. Your mind is buzzing, and red hot aches form in the aftermath as the soreness begins to ebb away at your core.

You're really the cutest when you're like this, shaking in his bed like some lost fawn, curling in on yourself as if to hide from him. He grins at this, letting his sadistic streak rear its head as he gives a particularly harsh thrust while you ride out your high. You shriek, skin burning in the wake of your nth orgasm, exacerbated by Tojis sudden movement. All you can muster is a pout in your exhaustion, eyes watering once more, and his chest swells with pride at your state.

Though, he does feel a slight bit of guilt prick at his heart seeing you so worn out, having cum for him god knows how many times at this point. Even he was getting sensitive, and he's not sure he can take much more.

But that's never stopped him.

And as much as he wants to baby you and pamper you to an embarrassing degree, he simply hasn't had his fill yet. Any man worth his salt would do all he could to make sure his lover was fully satisfied, and unfortunately for you, Toji was as arrogant as they come.

Even if you had never actually agreed to this.

You whine as he pulls out, body going slack in what he assumes is relief. Your relaxation is short lived, however, and soon enough Toji is pulling you onto his thigh, beginning to rock you gently as you choke on a moan. His lips quickly find that sweet spot on your neck that makes you melt in a half-hearted attempt to soothe you, but all you can do is wail in protest. Your nerves are fried at this point and you're sure you'll die if he keeps going. Not that he cares when you tell him as much.

Silly thing, he's nowhere near done with you.

[divinesolas]

Not a one time thing

r.q: being friends with benefits, with jace where you both end up drunk at a party and end up having sx and the next day you guys laugh it off and forget abt it. but jace starts to crave you more and first you’re hesitant about it, but then you guys agree on friends with benefits. now you guys js randomly whenever you’re stressed or in the mood and calling eachother in the middle of the night. jace starts to catch feelings and like fights the urge to say ily while they’re doing it. and then they js like end up together idk. but you’re like my fav jace writer rn

w.c: 1k

c.w: slight nsfw, sweet jace, mutual pining, fwb to lovers, cute little drabble, not proofread, written with f!reader in mind but is basically gn!reader

You thought your slip up with Jace would be a one time thing, that after the two of you walk out of the party laughing about it that that would be it. Yet not even two nights later you’re staring down at a “are you up?” text from him. You don’t answer him, texting him back in the morning and saying you had been asleep and asking him what he needed, he had said it was nothing and he ‘figured it out’ but that just left you way too curious.

Yet when he shows up at your house at two am with his puppy dog eyes and a rock between his legs you let him push you on the couch and let him have you once again. When you wake up and he’s making breakfast in your kitchen shirtless you decide to lay down some ground rules to quell the pounding of your heart.

Strictly friends with benefits. No feelings attached. exclusively one another, definitely a rule in place just to avoid stds, no other reason. Arrangement must be broken off is one of you begins to like someone else.

Sounds easy enough. Its a good stress reliever for you, whenever you have a test or your studying is not going as well as expected you give him a ring and he’s quick to show up to take your mind off of it and you do the same for him. It works well, at least for you, but Jace seems to be struggling a lot more then you are.

You can’t tell he is of course. He is good at hiding it, but it begins to grow more and more daunting as he’s thrusting into you, staring at your with heart eyes that you can’t see since your eyes are closed, his thumb rubs affectionally on your jaw as he watches you climax, it’s gotten to the point he has no care for his own pleasure, he gets his fill from watching your eyes rolls in the back of your head.

Four times. It was a new record for him. Four times he almost told you that he loved you. He watches you as you scroll through your phone, oblivious to the internal battle he’s having. You are so beautiful. You haven’t even bothered to put back on any of your clothes, he admires you fully, he had no clue how long he was until you look at him with a raised brow, “You like what you see big guy?”

He loves you.

He simply reaches over and places a kiss on your lips before he lays back down. “What’s that for?” Because i love you. “To shut you up.” You roll your eyes and smack him on the chest. “Says you while staring at my bare chest you perv.”

He thinks he can keep it in for awhile, let his feelings pass. Yet he ends up blowing up. You have been spending a lot more time with cregan. Cregan fucking stark his best friend yet he has never wanted to murder a man more. Why are you walking around and smiling with him? Why did you fucking bail on him one night to hang out with cregan?

“Is this over?”

You turn to him confused, setting down the pizza you had ordered for the two of you down on the table and shake your head, “What are you talking about?”

His posture is rigid, he’s fiddling around with his fingers, he would normally be shirtless but you take notice of the fact he’s wearing a plain white shirt. “Are we over?”

“No? Why would,” You attempt to put it in the words, we seems to intimate despite the fact that's how he worded it, “our arrangement,, end? You like someone?”

“What about cregan? You like him don’t you?” You tilt your head at him and let out a confused laugh. “You mean your best friend cregan? what the fuck are you on about?”

“You said our arrangement ends if one of us starts to like someone else.” “Yes i did, so what you think i like cregan?” “Yes.” This is what breaks you and you laugh, you cover your face in your hands as you turn away and you laugh. “what the are you talking about? No i don’t like cregan. Why would it matter if i did?”

“Because i love you.” You freeze. You turn around quickly to stare at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“I love you. I don’t want to be some stupid arrangement. I want there to be us, we. Together.”

You gulp, you feel your feelings you’ve kept locked down bubbling up to the surface. You have to be rational, he is clearly not thinking straight you know him. “Jace. This is coming from you being jealous you shouldn’t say stuff like that. Hey ill stop hanging out with cregan without you-”

“No. I’m in love with you. This is not because I’m fucking jealous, sure maybe i am but i am so madly in love with you everyday i have to stop myself from professing my love to you from the highest mountain. If I'm saying this because I'm jealous then why do i feel the urge to tell you i love you while you’re withering underneath me. I love you.”

He had made his way over to you. He stands in front of you looking like a kicked puppy. “If you don’t feel the same we should end this. Never speak again, maybe that would kill me but i can’t just keep ignoring how i feel for you any longer.” He tenses in your silence, “Please answer me.”

“I never wanted to get into this arrangement with you because i knew one day i would crack. I ignored your calls and texts because i was so nervous to begin this dangerous game with you because i am so madly in love with you Jace.”

He rushes to cup your cheeks and he pulls you into a kiss. You can feel him grinning against your lips and he must feel the way you’re smiling back.

“Does boyfriend Jace fuck anything different than friend Jace?”

“You’re about to find out.”

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[misshoneyimhome]

Say My Name, Say My Name I Quinn Hughes 🖋️🌺

Requested? Yes / No

Summary; Based on the Tik Tok trend, calling your boyfriend “husband”

Tropes & warnings; established relationship; Tik Tok trend; fluff, marriage proposal; no warnings;

Other notes: For the second story of this TikTok trend, I've challenged myself with writing for Quinn Hughes for the first time 😊 To be honest, I didn't know much about him to fully capture his character, however, this is pretty much how sweet I imagine this boy to be 🤭🤍 Since I had a few different ideas of how to approach the request, this turned out to be nothing but pure fluff 🌺🥂

I hope you enjoy it 🌷🐰

Word count; 1.6K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

As the sun dipped low, casting a gentle glow over the bustling streets of Vancouver, you strolled alongside your boyfriend, Quinn Hughes. The city buzzed with its usual activity, providing a comforting backdrop to your conversation on this typical Thursday evening. And with the promise of a hockey-free weekend on the horizon, a mischievous idea had crept into your mind – sparked by a popular TikTok challenge that had been gaining traction online.

In recent weeks, you'd seen numerous videos of people teasingly calling their boyfriends "husbands," while recording their partners' bewildered reactions for entertainment. And intrigued by the trend, you couldn't resist the urge to try it out with Quinn.

After nearly three years of shared laughter and cherished moments in your relationship, you were confident that Quinn would find the prank amusing, perhaps even earning a reaction with a hint of panic. So, with a playful glint in your eye, you had naturally shared your plan with your closest friend, enlisting her help in pulling off the light-hearted prank.

As you’d proposed the idea, your friend, always up for TikTok trends, had eagerly agreed to assist. You’d decided on arranging a double date, which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, planning for you to execute the prank while she would discreetly film Quinn's reaction.

So, as you sat in a cosy, almost half-empty restaurant later that Thursday evening, the weight of your impending prank began to settle in. Excitement and nerves mingled in your chest, your fingers tapping restlessly on the tabletop as you waited for the perfect moment to put your plan into action.

And finally, the moment arrived, hanging in the air with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. As the waiter approached to take your orders, a surge of anxious energy coursed through you, your heart racing. Yet, with practiced ease, you smoothly transitioned into the pivotal moment. "And for my husband," you said, injecting a playful tone into your voice, "he'll have a glass of ice water and the pasta Bolognese."

The words hung in the air, a silent challenge to fate, while your best friend discreetly positioned her phone, ready to capture Quinn's genuine reaction.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Quinn's gaze shifted towards you, his expression a fleeting mix of surprise and curiosity. "Your what?" he murmured, his voice barely audible, yet you persisted, ignoring the amusement threatening your facade of confidence.

In that suspended moment, Quinn's initial reaction was genuine astonishment, his eyes widening in disbelief before a soft chuckle broke the tension like a gentle wave against the shore. 

And as the waiter then walked away following taking all orders, he left behind echoes of laughter. Quinn then leaned closer towards you; his tone laced with mock seriousness. "Husband, huh?" he mused, a playful smirk on his lips. "Guess I'll need to update my resume."

It hadn’t entirely been the shocked reaction you’d hoped for, yet you still found the situation undeniably amusing. Confessing the inspiration behind your jest, laughter filled the air. And as the night wore on, your little act slowly faded in the background.

However, unbeknownst to you, the innocent prank had sparked an idea in Quinn's mind.

Although he hadn’t exactly expected to consider such a significant step already at the age of 24, the notion lingered, intriguing and compelling. As the eldest among his brothers and in his most serious relationship yet, Quinn had pondered the concept for some time. He’d even briefly sought advice from his closest teammates on how to broach the subject, as he’d realised life was too short to wait for the perfect moment.

So, as he sat beside you, enveloped in shared laughter, he felt a newfound determination. With quiet resolve and a heart full of affection, he began laying the groundwork for a significant occasion, one that would hopefully change your relationship for the better.

A little over a week later, with the memory of your playful prank still fresh in his mind, Quinn found himself beyond excited and content about the idea. With determination coursing through him and a ring burning a silent promise in his pocket, he’d devised a plan.

His aim was to catch you off guard, to make the moment as unexpected as possible. And having noticed how you had emphasised the prank was nothing but a joke, he guessed your mind hadn’t dwelled on such matters. Which made it the perfect opportunity.

So, returning to the very same restaurant Saturday evening where the idea had originated, Quinn carefully arranged the setting for the action. Despite the absence of a best friend discreetly recording the scene, the familiar ambiance of the restaurant's softly lit interior and the intimate corner table added a serene touch to the occasion. So with a steady hand and a heart brimming with love, Quinn recreated the scene.

As the waiter approached to take your orders, he took a deep breath, and with a voice filled with emotion, he echoed your words from days prior, "And for my wife, she'll have a glass of Champagne along with some water and the cheese, spinach ravioli, please."

Your eyes widened a little in slight disbelief as the words lingered in the air, blending with the gentle buzz of conversation around you, and a chuckle escaped your lips of amusement at Quinn's unexpected play. You simply couldn’t help but laugh at the joke and how he replicated your playful tease from the other night with such precision.

“Wife, huh?” You chuckled lightly. “Guess I deserved that one - though I do enjoy the sound of it.”

However, this time, it wasn't a prank. As the waiter departed, leaving behind a soft smile, your eyes met with Quinn’s, flashing him an entertained smile. Yet there was a seriousness in your boyfriend’s expression, a rare sight outside of the intensity of a hockey match, and a curious furrow creased your brow as you couldn’t decipher his thoughts. But before you could ask him what was on his mind, Quinn gently rose from his seat, moving with deliberate grace to stand next to you.

“I’m glad you say that ‘cause…”

You shifted in your seat to face him, the air crackled with anticipation as he then slowly dropped to one knee, the world around you fading into insignificance, leaving only the man you loved, poised before you with a vulnerability that stole your breath away.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Quinn gently took out the little velvet box from his pocket, his brown eyes shining with an intensity that mirrored his deep emotions. 

“Y/n," he softly began. "I know you said it as a joke the other night, but... truth be told, it stuck with me. And I realised that… I do want to be your called husband. You mean everything to me. Without you, I'd be lost – even though I don't tell you enough, you make my every day brighter. I can't even begin to thank you enough for your endless support, for putting up with me and my career every single day. You never ask for anything, and yet you give so much love. I love you so so much, and I just can't imagine a future without you in it..."

With every heartfelt confession, your breath hitched in your throat, your mind swirling with the weight of his sentiments. Emotions surged within you, threatening to overflow as Quinn exposed his soul, sharing his fears and dreams for your future together.

And then came the question, hanging in the air like a fragile promise—a question that held the power to shape your lives forever.

"Y/n, will you marry me?"

It felt surreal, like a dream woven from the threads of your deepest desires and fondest hopes. Quinn on his knee before you, his vulnerability a testament to the depth of his love. And in that moment, tears glistening in your eyes, and a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, there was only one right answer.

Though struggling to find the words, you willed your lips to move and your throat to vocalise the response.

"Yes... Quinn, of course," you replied with excitement, the sound of soft applauses rippling through the restaurant. And with a deep relieved sigh, and a satisfied smile illuminating his face, Quinn rose from his kneeling position, meeting you in a deep, heartfelt kiss. 

Sealing the engagement your lips met with nothing but devotion, the world around you slowly dissolving, before breaking apart. Quinn's excitement was nothing short of palpable, his smile radiant as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, and he couldn’t deny that this felt better than any hockey match win. Perhaps besides winning the Stanley Cup. 

It was truly a beautiful ring. The diamond's shimmer mirrored the twinkle in his eyes as you admired the ring's delicate intricacies. And with a content smile, you shared another quick kiss before Quinn returned to his seat, and the waiter poured champagne to mark the occasion.

Raising your glasses in a toast, you again sealed the engagement with a clink, the bubbles dancing against your lips like promises of a future filled with love and joy. This moment was everything you had ever dreamed of. Though it had begun with a playful joke, it perfectly captured the essence of your relationship—full of laughter, love, and shared moments of joy.

And with your hands gently intertwined on the table, both admiring the new addition to your finger, you couldn't help but chuckle. "Looks like I really do need to update my resume," you playfully remarked, echoing Quinn's words from the other night.

And in response, your fiancé merely chuckled, his eyes brimming with adoration as he kissed your hand and held your gaze with unwavering affection. "Yes, I suppose you’ll have to," he smiled, his voice filled with promise and a love that knew no bounds.

[selene-writes]

You-Me-Us

AHHHH Hey guys! There's lots of Logan craze on here thought I would try writing. Should this be a series? Its short and there's lot of places to go from here.

You had known Logan for fifteen years—technically, that had been your entire life, or at least as much of it as you could remember. Your earliest memory was of his face peering down at you with a mixture of concern and relief. You were in some sort of ruined laboratory, your body aching with a pain you couldn’t fully comprehend. You didn’t even know your own name at the time. Instead, you went by Artemis, a name you had chosen for yourself, though Logan often called you "bub."

Like Logan, you were a mutant, endowed with the gift of regeneration. This ability made it impossible to determine your exact age. In addition to your regenerative powers, you possessed the unique ability to manipulate atoms. This rare skill granted you control over all elements, a power that made you incredibly unique and powerful.

You had both decided to stick together, united in your quest to uncover the truth about who you were and why you had ended up there. It was evident that something significant had happened to both of you, something that had rendered you both invincible. Despite the mysteries that surrounded your origins, the bond between you and Logan only grew throughout time.

As time passed, the nature of your relationship evolved in ways neither of you had anticipated. Somehow, amidst the chaos and the search for answers, you had found yourselves tumbling into bed with each other. While the physical connection had become a part of your lives, nothing had fundamentally changed, and you never talked about it.

Even as you navigated your complicated relationship, your focus remained on the shared mission: to piece together the truth about your past and understand the full extent of your powers. 

Everything happened so quickly. You and Logan were in the middle of your usual routine—hitting various bars and grifting people for money. It was a familiar pattern, one that had become almost comforting in its predictability. But that night, things took an unexpected turn.

A teenager—no older than seventeen—had sneaked into the back of your car. Her name was Rogue, and despite your initial reluctance, you and Logan ended up arguing about what to do with her. Logan, ever the soft-hearted one despite his gruff exterior, eventually agreed to give her a ride, though it was clear he would have done so regardless of your persuasion.

The situation quickly spiraled out of control. Out of nowhere—a caveman-like brute—attacked you. Logan was momentarily knocked out in the chaos, leaving you and Rogue vulnerable. The man’s strength was overwhelming, and before you could react, he hurled you against a tree. The impact was brutal, and you felt a jarring “crack” as your head struck the trunk.

You crumpled to the ground, falling into the snow. As the world around you dimmed, the last thing you saw was the silhouettes of the figures moving closer, their shapes growing more defined against the stark whiteness of the snow.

You woke with a groan, sitting up abruptly as if propelled by instinct. Your body felt as good as new, fully healed from the earlier impact. Instinctively, you scanned your surroundings, your mind racing with concern for Logan and his whereabouts.

As your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you noticed a bald man sitting in a wheelchair across the room. Despite his lack of visible movement, his voice seemed to come from all around you, resonating in your mind as much as your ears.

“There is no need to panic,” he said, his lips remaining still, not in sync with his words.

You tensed, on high alert. “How are you doing that?” you demanded, your voice edged with suspicion.

The bald man responded aloud this time, “How do we do anything? We’re mutants.”

Your frustration boiled over. “Where am I? Where is Logan?”

The man’s calm demeanor didn’t waver. “He is safe… you both are.” He began to wheel closer; his movements deliberate and smooth. “As for where you are… You are at my academy, where we help those like you. You are with… the X-Men.”