#armory kink

[pseudowho]

Deliverance

Hunting down a monster, you are led to an isolated little town...and into the arms of its enigmatic priest, who harbours a dark secret.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Vampire!Priest!Nanami, monsterfucking, winged vampire, soft!Dom/pleasure!Dom Nanami, loss of faith/disillusionment, enemies to lovers/forbidden lovers, haematophilia, corruption kink

Very much inspired by Mike Flanagan's exceptional "Midnight Mass" which I highly recommend.

Soundtrack: "Take Me To Church" by Hozier, and "All Around Me" by Flyleaf

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The bridge to the mainland lived most of its saltcured life underwater. It rose, skeletal against the fog, as if the wreck of a ship from some bygone era, only twice a day, at low tide.

You were, by now, well-established into this friendly little town; a much-needed teacher to its handful of muddy-toed children. They did now know of your armory, your deadly weaponry. They did not know of your vow to hunt down the monsters that stalked the night.

And, they did not know how you suspected that the beast responsible for the deaths of at least 20 men on the mainland, may be one of their very own. 20 murders all occurring at low-tide, and only low-tide, could not be a coincidence.

They were all scum, you mused to yourself, all rapists, paedophiles and murderers...so perhaps it does have some sort of moral code. It must be here, you reasoned, fingers tapping the woody shelves of your little school cupboard in thought.

Your hunt was hampered by the timekeeping of this sleepy fishing town; often up before sunrise to take to the sea, and back before the sun broke above the horizon, it was not unusual for its residents to sleep during the day, and rise in time for the sunset. Its little church even held an evening mass, attended by plentiful nocturnal residents, after dinner.

"Hello?" A rich baritone, which was beginning to feel so intimately familiar to you, stirred an illicit want in your belly. He called your name. You could not help but run to him.

"--sorry, I'm-- I'm here! In the cupboard!" You called out, breathless in...what? Your rush to get to him? Anticipation? Something...more?

You flurried round the corner, all eager smiles, flyaway hairs and dimples. Your eyes melted so softly upon each others' forms, both sighing with relief. Neither of you knew how the other stirred within.

"Ke--...Father Nanami. What a lovely surprise. You're not usually up so early."

Nanami Kento cut an imposing figure in his cassock and white collar. He was a big man, with mountainous shoulders, and long, broad hands. You remembered the heat that pooled in your belly, the first time he had rolled up his sleeves to help you to move supplies into the schoolhouse, his forearms so alluringly thick and corded. His size belied an easy grace, and the elegant quick-step of a busy, intelligent man.

"I found myself unable to sleep," Kento admitted, his head bowed and hands clasped as he stepped to you. He seemed paler than usual, as he continued, "I was thinking abo--...just, thinking." He finished weakly. His eyes drew so fleetingly to your fast little pulse, thrumming from your throat, down your cleavage. His mouth dried, a double-edged hunger climbing down his abdomen.

"...thinking?" You offered, slowly closing the distance between you. You ached to remove it completely, your respect for his holy vows the only thing that contained you. Kento cleared his throat, running one strong finger between his neck, and corseting black and white collar.

"...wondering. If you would be attending mass. Tonight. I have miss--...you have missed the past week, I believe."

Ah. Yes. There was rarely another time when the homes of the local residents were empty enough to allow for investigation. You had only a few more to ransack, to find your monster, and you could feel yourself closing in on it. You felt a heavy rock of regret in your belly, and you clasped one of Kento's cool, pale hands in your own. His cock twitched, to feel the burn of your flesh against his, in ways so much less intimate than what he had imagined, alone at night.

"I'm so sorry...not tonight," you frowned, and you hurried to reassure Kento as he visibly deflated, "But tomorrow, I promise you. I'll come. Truly." Kento's face, so angular and strong, softened down at you with the hint of a smile.

His hand raised up for a moment, hesitating, before cupping your cheek. You felt your heart skip a beat, the tips of his little and ring fingers ghosting over your pulse point, while his thumb swiped beneath your eye.

"...chalk," Kento whispered, seeing your pupils dilate under his inherent, dangerous magnetism. He wished nothing more than to lean down and taste you, clutched against him and whimpering in the schoolhouse. You heard thunder rumble in the distance, and smelled the petrichor of an oncoming storm.

"...I can't wait," Kento whispered, stepping back from you, with just one backwards glance before sweeping out under the wind and blotting clouds.

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Your hunt had amounted to nothing. Either, your monster was meticulously careful, or your suspicions were incorrect, and it did not reside on this island. There was just one more place you had not explored, and you resigned yourself that you may be heading home sooner than you thought.

And yet, you felt a rope behind your navel, a red string around your finger, holding you here. You decided to complete your final investigation at the home of the priest, who had become the lifeblood that ran inside you, at midnight. He generally stayed late at the church, completing administration. You would be undisturbed.

Armed, rogue-like, you blended with moonlit shadows until you reached the windows outside his bedroom. You peeked through the gaps in the wooden blinds, and were met with an image of Kento, erotic and resplendent, that seared itself into your brain for the rest of your days.

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Kento didn't need sleep, ever since his God had forsaken him. Yet still, he craved that sweet embrace, to take him away from the twisted torture of what he had become. His resolve to die this way, as some fallen angel, had been unexpectedly fractured by the will to live-- fractured by you.

Kento switched the shower off, the last droplets of water running down his back. His cassock and collar were discarded, all woven lies against the skin of a faithless hypocrite. Kento wrapped a towel loosely around his waist, stepped past the empty mirror, and out into his bedroom.

His gut churned to see his empty bed. It had been weeks since he had fed. Years since he had taken a woman for the last time, before taking his vows. Weeks, since you had begun to consume him, mind, body and soul.

Kento had been losing his faith before the change. He had grown further from God, as countless monsters died beneath his teeth. But it was thoughts of you, spread, penetrated and whimpering beneath him, that took Kento beyond redemption.

Kento shuddered at the aching greed within. He lay back on his bed, hair still damp and floppy, but desperate for sleep to grip him and pull him under. His cock, rapidly thickening and tenting beneath the towel, made him curse, one broad arm flung over his eyes, while the other tried to squeeze himself into submission.

Kento squirmed with guilt, his semi-erect cock gripped in his palm. He thought of you, your fingers dipping into your needy wet cunt, the vibrator on your clit doing nothing to relieve the ache in your soul. He thought of the way you had squirmed and begged, to your god, and to him, to be granted your release. He thought of the way you had sobbed as you came, curled round yourself, your fingers desperately trying to reach the sweet spot that would make your orgasm climb all the way into your belly.

He didn't need to imagine it, Kento thought blithely, his thumb now stroking slick pre-cum under his foreskin, and over the sweet swollen head of his cock. He didn't need to imagine it, because he had seen you, through the gap in your curtains in the dead of night. Watching you, a pale angel in the rain, hunting for the forgiveness of a body he couldn't allow himself to sully.

Kento's hand had begun to masturbate himself instinctually, to the thought of you crying out for him. For him, and he could do nothing but pretend he hadn't seen you fall apart, to the dream of him inside you.

Kento groaned, low and rumbling, his hand gripping tightly around his throbbing, heavy length, longer than his thick fist could cover. Dripping with pre-cum, Kento began to fuck into his own fist to lubricate himself. He moaned in time to the memory of you, writhing and mewling against your pillow.

Kento's other arm reached round above his head, and he sunk his sharp teeth into his pillow, licking at it, imitating how he would flick his tongue against your pert little clit with a ragged moan. He pictured you above him, riding his mouth and nose as the length of his cock fucked down your throat to the tune of sweet wet gags. Kento whispered filth into the dead of night, trying to rut himself to orgasm.

"--take it-- good girl...cum down your throat-- cum in my mouth...shit...fuck you through it soon, angel-- promise, I promise--...ahhhh, shit, SHIT--"

Kento cursed, spitting venom, his balls heavy and sore, his own hand so woefully inadequate. His canines had lengthened, his mouth twisted into a teeth-baring snarl, and he gripped his cock harder. Trailing his other fingers to his mouth, sucking on his fingertips with a shiver, Kento pierced them until he could taste the hot rush of blood, imagining it was you quenching his thirst--

At the window, completely unnoticed, you gripped the windowpane, weak-kneed. Your other hand clapped over your mouth. Kento lay naked on his bed, sprawled and ethereal under strips of moonlight, masturbating with gasps and groans that you only wished you could hear.

Those hands, that you had spent night after night, wishing were inside you. That cock, thicker and longer than you had pictured...and oh. The way he rutted into his fist with such devastating ferocity, left you jealous of his hand. Your mouth watered.

What would he do, if you knocked right now? If you offered yourself to him, spread bare and pleading? Would he forsake his vows for you? Would he turn his back to God, as he stroked his cockhead to orgasm between your wet folds, singing your praises, and spattering hot, thick cum over your clit--

You were drawn back out of your head as Kento convulsed, his anguished, sloppy moan breaking through the windows, shooting through you like a knife. You gasped, delighted by Kento's twitching pleasure.

Kento hit his orgasm with the turmoiled strength of a stormfront, breaking. His final image was of you, cradling his sore cock between your legs, humping him inside you while you whispered to him and he whined into your hair and got lost in the smell of you, god, the smell of you, he could smell you now--

Kento spasmed, crying out as cum spurted in heavy stripes up his abdomen, his orgasm threaded with a tinge of horror-- fuck, he could smell you, you were here nearby, he knew the smell of that skin and that blood and that cunt--

Kento sat up with a jolt and a snarl, still gasping, the power of the hunt crashing through him. His teeth bared, animalistic, he wrenched his window up, sticking his head out into the night.

The smell of you, quickly fading, was being carried away by the wind. And Nanami Kento was losing his mind.

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You could barely compose yourself, walking into Church the next evening. The night had crept in fast; another storm churning over the water, was pulling the moon in with it. You felt overburdened with...guilt? Desire? You could not hide it, you were sure.

You could not hide it, as Kento's rich voice embraced the pews. You could not hide it, as your voice trembled its way through hymns. Kento's stern, impassive face remained unreadable, as you took communion from him. You met each others' eyes, both thinking about the same thing; his finger grazed your tongue, and gazed upon your sweet face, open-mouthed and doe-eyed, kneeling before him.

And despite all this, it was each others' company you craved more than anything more carnal. You found excuses to stay, in the church, loitering as Kento bid the crowds a warm goodbye. As the last person left, finally alone, you turned to each other. You both held your breath.

After a few moments, yours released in a twinkling laugh, and a blush, that had Kento's chest clenching in possessive adoration.

"I...have neglected you, father," you offered, brushing your hair behind your ear. Kento huffed, at first, pinching the bridge of his nose, before laughing. A genuine laugh. Deep, velvety, and rich. You were putty in his hands, and he didn't even know.

"Alas...it is the life of the clergy. Our own needs, go...unmet." Kento grimaced, a forced half-smile. His hands clasped over his lap.

You felt the tinge of bitterness at the edge of his words. You swallowed, thickly. Your fate balanced on the edge of a knife.

"Not...not all of them, surely? You could...you could join me for dinner?" You couldn't miss how Kento's eyebrows raised fractionally, his pupils dilating. Kento felt a dangerous hunger.

"I...I'm not sure-- I shouldn't--"

"Of course, you're completely right--" you flapped, taking a step back, and Kento's hunger gripped you back with jealous need.

"...I shouldn't be long here. An hour, maybe? If...if you'll allow it." Kento could feel himself twist under the need to possess you, one way or another. Judging by the smell of you, you would be wet, supple under his lips.

"Perfect," you blurted, standing up on your tiptoes for one happy moment, "perfect. I'll cook. We can...we can talk. I can't wait."

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A brisk knock. You hurried to the door, biting your lip, briefly abandoning dinner on the stove.

"Father," you cried, damning yourself for sounding so excited, "you're here...I'm glad. I was afraid you wouldn't...anyway..."

You hurried back to the stove, leaving the door open. After a moment, you looked up, seeing Kento leaning against the doorframe, looking at with with something...unreadable, in his eyes. He simply stood, drinking you in as you cooked.

"...Father? What are you waiting out there for? Come in." Blinking, chuckling to himself, Kento stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him and gently placing a bottle of wine on the table.

"Please. Call me Kento. It seems...silly, if we're having dinner, and a night together." You felt heat blossom through you, at the accidental double-meaning behind Kento's words.

Dinner together was soft, intimate, the food and wine smoothing over an already glossy conversation. You were made malleable by the wine. You were intoxicated by him. Kento looked into you with such knowledge of you, that you were laid bare beneath his gaze.

Sat facing each other on the sofa, Kento had abandoned his white collar, the buttons of his cassock and white shirt undone to his chest. He rolled wine around his glass, his head leaning on one hand, smiling as you talked. The wine made you stupid, and you blurted out;

"Why? Why...did you join the church, Kento?" It was, in part, rhetorical. A cry of despair against the crime of Kento being made untouchable. His answer surprised you, and you found yourself shuffling closer as he talked.

"I ask myself that same question every day. Ever since..." Kento bit his tongue, thinking of the night he was turned, on a missionary trip abroad. Thinking about the day you walked into his parish, setting him aflame with unquenchable burning thirst. Kento cleared his throat, swirling his wine. He felt his primal magnetism drawing you to him like a moth to the flame, and he could not stop himself.

"...I have become...disillusioned, with the church. I am...torn," Kento admitted. Your knees were touching his now, and you leaned towards him with lovesick eyes. Kento felt the thrill of the hunt, feeling the sting of his teeth lengthening. His cock twitched as your breath passed over his cheek.

"...torn?" You felt a quiver of fear now, in the way Kento's eyes darkened, his hand slipping over to grip behind your knee, pulling him into his lap. He set aside his glass. It should have rung alarm bells. You were so drunk, but you had only had one glass of wine. Kento smelled so intoxicating. You were warm, floppy as he pulled you to straddle his lap, cupping your face with both hands.

"...torn," he whispered, his nose brushing yours. Kento's hunger overtook his panic for you, a victim to himself. Kento whispered against your lips, watching your eyes flutter closed, your head heavy and lilting to the side, exposing the pretty thrum of your throat to him.

"...torn," he continued, gliding his tongue up the pulse in your neck, feeling his cock jump against your clothed pussy, "...all because of you...if God has forsaken me, I hope he never wants me back. If only you would let me worship you, instead."

Kento's lips hovered over yours, barely quelling his urgent need to feed on you, until you whimpered his name. Kento snapped, and pulled you in by the back of the neck, crashing his lips to yours with the ragged groan of a starving man.

Your head swam with Kento, clutching his open collar and falling against him, allowing him to devour your mouth with bliss. You murmured against his lips, sloppy and licking, tasting the sweet allure of him, and his grip on the back of your neck grew crushing, his weight now bearing over you to press you back into the sofa, a sharp sting on your lip--

"Ow! I...ugh, sorry...I'm bleeding--"

As you moved to sit up, shocked back out of your reverie, Kento had pushed himself back to the other side of your sofa. One hand had clasped over his mouth. He trembled, and shook, white-knuckles clasping the sofa. You heard a sharp gasp, as if Kento was in pain.

With blood on your lip, you reached for him-- and stopped. Your eyes fixed on the switched-off television opposite you both. You stood, slowly, moving towards the hallway, and your bag, trying to control your terrified little heart.

"I'll just...get a cloth, for my li--"

As you pulled a blade from your bag, standing up to spin around, you were thrown back to the wall, your head cushioned by Kento's hand. You cried out, feeling him bracket you against the wall, his cassock now abandoned, his form seeming to grow and swell before you. Kento's face pressed to your neck, and you felt the hot throb of his growing cock against your belly.

You stood this way, both panting into each other, your knife pressed over Kento's heart, and his teeth pressed to your throat. Your heart broke, fragile beneath Kento's twisting form, and hungry mouth. You hiccuped, your hand and resolve faltering.

"...I never wanted...I wish it wasn't...why did it have to be you?" You sobbed, your arm starting to lower. Kento growled against you, already two feet taller, his enormous chest trapping you in against the wall. You felt the lights blotting out around you, as vast, black, velvety wings unfurled from Kento's back.

"...always...you always knew...just couldn't accept--" Kento gasped, his tongue darting out against your neck, ridged and trembling. His chest burst with pain to feel you sob beneath him.

"I can't do it," you cried, your knife hand lowering again, "just take what you want, because I can't-- I love you-- I'm not strong enough." Kento's teeth gritted, his face crumpling against the soft copper scent of your skin. His enormous hand gripped yours, raising the knife to press to his chest. You gasped and cried out, resisting his pull; a bead of blood sprung up around the tip, pressed to Kento's chest.

"From the moment you arrived," Kento growled, his teeth pressing gently over your pulse point, starving and needy, "...my life...everything I am, has been yours to take. I would know you, blind and deaf...and I would be honoured, for you to take my life as penance for my sins."

You gritted your teeth, completely releasing your grip on the blade. It clattered to the floor. You reached up to trail hands up Kento's enormous, powerful shoulders. Your fingertips grazed the soft base of his wings, and Kento shivered, shuddering into you. He felt a dribble of pre-cum soak his stretched, ripping boxers.

"Then I condemn you to live, Kento," you whispered, pulling his face up to yours. His pupils were dilated, bursting with lust, inky black in pools of crimson, "...and take me. However you want me."

Kento snarled at you again, pressing himself to you, pinning your arms above your head with one thick hand; "You have no idea what you're asking for," he hissed, "I will eat you alive." He felt you tremble, seeing the golden resolve in your eyes. You leaned forwards to his mouth, begging.

"Then eat me...or fuck me, like you fucked your hand to me."

Kento cursed, snapping, lifting you against him. You wrapped your legs around his hips, feeling Kento reach down to shred the clothes off himself, completely absorbed by the need to possess you, to love you.

Flung backwards onto the bed, you gasped at Kento's monstrous form. Eight feet tall, broad and exquisite, his great black wings folded and unfolded against his back. His aching cock dripped with pre-cum, so much bigger than when you had seen him cum into his own hand. His face, still undeniably Kento, stared into you, owning you. Heat pooled between your legs, as he grasped his cock in one great hand, groaning and shuddering.

You crept forwards, still drunk on him, and his nephilim glory. Kento's hand stuttered around his cock as you licked the tip.

"--fuck-- too big for you-- you can't--" Kento uttered a strangled moan, to feel your hot little mouth engulf his cockhead, your lips stretched wide, gulping him to the back of your throat, all hot little licks and sucks. Every fibre of his being needed to buck forwards into your mouth, and you felt two great hands tangle in your hair.

When your hands joined your mouth, stroking down his aching length, masturbating the parts of his cock your mouth could not reach, Kento rutted involuntarily. Moaning, begging and whining your name, his voice ran deep and ragged around his sharp canines.

"--darling, I-- shit I-- so good...so good for me...taking me s--so well, haaaaah...not-- can't last-- like this--"

You hummed around his cock, swallowing down a trickle of salty pre-cum, feeling the gentle pressure of his fingertips against your head. So aware of his size and strength, Kento handled you like a china doll, with the utmost love and affection. Kento moaned with abandon, his head thrown back, his great wings furling and unfurling with divine pleasure.

Swallowing around Kento's thick tip at the back of your throat, you felt his cock leaping in warning. Kento tried half-heartedly to pull you off him, whimpering and moaning with fractured cries of your name;

"--can't swallow-- s'too much-- ohhh fuck, my love-- c-cumming, I'm cumming-- fffuuuck yes, swallow-- all of it--"

You squeaked as his cock jolted and twitched in your mouth, Kento's balls clenched tight as he hunched around your mouth, pressing your head to him. Your mouth and throat flooded with Kento's bitter seed, cooler than that of a normal man, and you swallowed him down with pride. Kento's groans and breaths ran ragged, as you licked him clean.

Kento panted, glossy-eyed as he came down from his high, his cock still half-hard against his thigh. Crowding your body against the bed with his, his fingertips grazed the dress you wore, before ripping it from you with a bared-teeth growl. You felt your bra snapped in the middle, as if it were paper. Your breasts heaved, nipples peaked under Kento's ravenous attention.

Poking his tongue out to tease it over one hard nipple, you felt your clit throb to feel the otherworldly ridges and grooves running along his tongue's sides and tip. Whining as he sucked your pebbled nipple into his mouth, you shuddered to feel Kento's sharp teeth graze your sensitive peak. He savoured you, lathering your nipple against his tongue, until you felt you could cum from that alone.

His other hand rose to engulf your second breast, your nipple rolled so tenderly between two great fingers. You felt a trickle of arousal soak your underwear. Kento could smell it, and pressed his hand to your lower belly, feeling vaguely for the telltale swell of ovulation.

"...made a mistake, angel...letting me take you like this-- nothing of you left, by the time I'm done with you--mine-- all mine-- fuck--"

Trailing kisses down your belly, sniffing you and eager to fill you with his smell, his body thrummed for you. Kento threw your legs over his shoulders, ripping the sides of your underwear and tossing the scraps aside.

His eyes fixed on your pussy, slick and clenching. Kento shuddered, feeling his cock beginning to bound to life again. It flopped, heavy and twitching against his thigh, filling again in preparation to fill you. Kento felt a vague desire to ensnare you, trapping you inside his drunken intoxication, to fill you, and fill you, and fill you, until your belly swelled, oozing his thick, white seed.

"...Kento...please..." Your sweet begging pulled Kento out of himself. Despite his monstrous form, his face softened, his eyes fixed to yours as his tongue, long and ridged, stretched out of his mouth. You saw stars as it lathed insistently from side to side, spreading your folds, stroking back and forth over your aching, pearly clit.

Kento mumbled into your pussy, tasting you, his long tongue fucking into your cunt while his nose nuzzled your clit. Mewling, your hands flew down to sink into Kento's hair, and you felt your hands grasped and pinned against your belly. Kento knew, with a faint pang, that if your fingernails scratched against his sensitive scalp, he would surely spill his seed all over your floor.

Kento draped his other forearm over your belly and hips, pinning you down as you twisted beneath his attention. He lapped, sucked, and nipped at you with the softest bites to your clit, his tongue fucking in and out of you with inhuman dexterity.

You bucked your hips down the bed, eager to feel his tongue sink into your deepest parts, and Kento obliged with a wet moan. You felt his tongue lathe against your spongy spot, pinned down as he devoured you.

"--just there...harder please, please-- god I need your cock in me, please-- fuck me please-- please--"

You begged and pleaded your way to orgasm, your arousal seeping out around Kento's tongue as you came with a jolt and a cry, your thighs clamping around Kento's head, feet tickling against his sensitive wings. Kento continued to fuck his tongue in and out of you, lathering you with his spit, tasting your arousal, desperate to taste more of you.

You reached down, trying to pull Kento up your body. He almost laughed at your casual management of a true to life vampire, about to fuck you into the mattress. Kento allowed it, settling above you, his pupils narrowing at the insistent beat of your throat. Suddenly, and with a strangled growl, Kento knocked your head aside, his teeth grazing at your throat, and his monstrous cock throbbing at your entrance.

You trembled beneath him, heaving and gasping from your high. All of your resolve left you, beneath his tongue, and you uttered words you knew to be true;

"...I trust you, Kento."

Kento pressed into you, with teeth and cock and a husky moan. You felt a sharp pierce at your neck, his teeth just deep enough to feel the hot splash of your blood against his tongue. Kento almost finished then and there, his seed threatening to spatter into your folds and entrance, instead of in your belly, as he had promised himself. Kento drank you, his mouth clamped around your neck, one great hand cupping your head to the side while the other gripped your hip.

With a squeak and a protracted, broken moan of his name, you felt Kento's cock stretch through your wet velvety walls. You squirmed, trying to climb up the bed, feeling Kento growl around your throat and yank you back down.

Kento was enormous, by far the biggest cock you had ever taken, splitting you with a dull sting. Your fluttering hole soothed as Kento began to rut his length into you. His red, leaking tip bullied your cervix, bumping it up against your womb, with inches of him still outside of you.

You uttered strangled little moans, completely pinned beneath his hulking form, feeling him rut as much of his cock inside you as he could fit. With a shiver, Kento denied himself of any more blood at your throat. His tongue stroked your wounds, clotting the blood there, as he fucked gently into you.

Kento's wings caged you both in, and he stared down at where his cock tried to stretch your pussy out with dopey, lovesick eyes. A trickle of your blood ran down from the corner of his mouth, and he was struck with a sudden burst of pride for you. Kneeling back, Kento pushed your knees up to your chest, crushing over you in a mating press.

You writhed, as Kento managed to sink more of his cock into you, groaning which each stroke he watched enter and pull out of you. Your slick formed a translucent white ring most of the way down his cock length. Kento was eager to see it drip down his balls. He gasped down at your prone, fucked-out form, and gently began to press and roll the fatty flesh around your clit, making you buck up into him with pathetic little mewls.

"--fit it in--fit all of me in...if you cum again-- fuck you through it, baby...fuck you through it...fuck you through it..."

Kento repeated this like a mantra, every gradually strengthening thrust into you taking him deeper, your pussy stretched to its limits around his terrifying girth and length. Leaning over where you joined, Kento spat a smooth mouthful of spit, stroking it around his base, lubricating you both, before upping his pace and intensity again.

You cried out, head thrown back as you arched, feeling Kento so deeply that you clasped your belly. Kento planted one hand over yours, his fucks growing gradually more feral as he bared his teeth, determined to finally take what was his, after so many years of miserable self-denial.

"--mine make you mine make you mine--leave it behind...leave it all...for you...shit-- so tight, just--milk it out-- all my cum-- all yours, I swear..."

As you came, your pussy clenching and spasming, Kento finally bottomed out. His head flung back with a cry of success, slamming into you with abandon as he chased his high, desperate to see you filled with his cum. Cursing, and spitting, teeth bared and blacking out the room around you with his wings, Kento came with a roar, and you felt your pussy and belly flooded by him.

His cock jerked long, protracted twitches inside you, spurting thick bursts of cum, with nowhere to go but up, plugged by his enormous girth. You were pliable and dazed, taking it with the sweet relief of his love for you, his seed soothing your swollen inner walls like a balm.

Kento faltered above you, staggered and dazed. Keeping his cock stuffed inside you, manoeuvring himself onto his side, he swept one great wing beneath you, and one above you. You felt yourself cocooned, sleepy and full, reaching into hand up to tangle into Kento's hair. He pressed a lazy kiss to your palm.

"...you're a...terrible vampire hunter..." Kento slurred, fading out into soft snores, just seconds later.

He's not wrong, you reasoned to yourself, wondering and drifting to sleep in his arms and wings, maybe he'll help me.

[m0onlustre]

The price of desire

You were his biggest rival’s assistant, yet you had something that could benefit him. So what happens when a transaction between your boss and him goes wrong and you find your way in between?

ᯓPairing: Sylus x female reader (afab)

ᯓGenre: rivals to lovers, smut, porn with some ooc plot, angst

ᯓWord Count: 4,4k

ᯓ tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, alterations to the main story, toxic relationship, dr/y humping, t/easing, (lowkey) o/rgasm control, b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, breath play, sensory play, spanking, mention of breeding!kink (toxic if you squint really hard), creampies, dom!sylus, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie), violence, mentions of blood and injuries.

ᯓnotes: This is my first published work here, it took me some time to write but I believe I’m content with how it came out. At first, the idea was to keep it a part one which is connected to an event of the series. Ending this part, I can think of some ways this can go, but I’d still want your opinion:) If you want to see more of this, please go ahead and ask. Any reblogs and likes will be appreciated.

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You were a dangerous woman, a fact well-known throughout the N109 Zone. As the assistant to one of the most feared men in the underworld, your reputation was built on the edge of a knife. 

But today, the real danger sat directly across from you at the table—your boss's most formidable and deadly rival: Sylus.

His silver-white hair fell messily over his forehead, creating a disheveled yet intentional look that only added to his unsettling charisma. A smirk played on his lips, while his crimson eyes held an unreadable intensity,  as he sat on the table with his henchmen on each side of him. Luke and Kieran.

You had done your research, uncovering every scrap of information about the three men before you. It was a challenge, of course; the leader of the most notorious illegal organization in the N109 Zone wasn’t one to divulge valuable intel easily. Yet you had pieced together enough to know the depths of Sylus's ruthlessness.

You were certain of one thing: Sylus would not hesitate to sacrifice anyone—including his own men—if it suited his purpose. The black-red tendrils of his mist would mercilessly end the person and he wouldn’t blink an eye while his lethal capability, capable of extinguishing a life in an instant, would take over. 

The only individuals he seemed to protect were Luke and Kieran, his unwavering henchmen, whose loyalty was both a strength and a potential weakness in this deadly game.

Everyone claimed that the twins were somewhat adopted by him—a complex relationship in which he protected and provided for them in exchange for their loyalty and services.

If you were being honest with yourself, you found yourself drawn to the twins. They exuded a carefree spirit that brought an element of fun, even in the context of business. You often wished you could shed your own uptight demeanor and embrace life as they did.

Your thoughts were abruptly pulled back to the present when one of Sylus’s men dropped two large armory boxes onto the table that separated your group from his. As the man opened the boxes, a collection of modified and illegal firearms was revealed, each piece looking as lethal as the man who had crafted them.

Dante, your boss, rose from his chair beside you to inspect the guns. After all, that was the purpose of this meeting—a trade, a business transaction between two men who despised each other's very existence, yet could not deny that, in times of crisis, their respective resources could prove invaluable to one another.

Dante provided the protocores, and Sylus expertly modified them. When Dante requested his part of the deal, the modified protocores were returned to him in the form of firearms capable of ending a life in less than the blink of an eye.

“Resourceful as always, Mr. Sylus,” your boss mused, but Sylus’s gaze was locked onto yours, seemingly ignoring Dante entirely.

“Oh, Dante,” he said, the man’s name dripping with disdain, “my little black heart is shattered into pieces. One would think you’d have learned by now not to question my methods or my work.”

You rolled your eyes at the silver-haired menace, your heels clicking against the carpet in a rhythm of impatience. You were growing weary of this standoff. Dante needed to state the agreed price and move on already.

“Set the price.”

Sylus’s smirk widened at Dante’s request, his eyes now fully focused on him. He seemed to stall deliberately, taking slow, measured steps around the room. His imposing aura filled the space, the coat draped over his broad shoulders swaying slightly with each movement. Finally, he came to a halt by the table, gripping its edge with both hands and leaning forward.

“Such a pretty kitten you have with you, hm?” he taunted.

Your gaze turned icy as Dante’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Are you referring to Miss Y/N?”

Sylus tilted his head to the side, his crimson eyes locking onto you once more, studying you with an intensity that made you uneasy. “You’re a foolish man, Dante.”

“What the hell did you just say?” 

You exhaled through your nose, frustrated by your boss’s inability to keep his pride in check when it came to Sylus. This man ran an entire organization yet seemed unable to handle a little provocation.

“I said…” Sylus drawled, relishing the moment, “you’re a foolish man. Only someone with the brain capacity of a goldfish would keep a pretty kitten like her uncollared.”

You shot up from your seat faster than lightning, leaning dangerously close to Sylus, your hand itching to grab one of the weapons from the boxes in front of you.

“You should watch your mouth when speaking to a lady, Mr. Sylus,” you seethed, your voice low but fierce. “Only a man with the brain capacity of a goldfish would disrespect a woman for no apparent reason.”

Sylus chuckled at your retort, a wide grin spreading across his sharp features, revealing his teeth.

“Feisty,” he mouthed, a smirk playing on his lips, meant only for you to see.

Just then, Dante stepped up behind you, and you almost forgot he was there until his hand landed firmly on your behind, giving it a squeeze. Your hand was so close to the gun that it took all your willpower not to reach for it.

Sylus's expression shifted, the amusement fading as his brows furrowed, re-centering on his forehead.

“Set. Your. Price,” Dante reiterated, his body uncomfortably close to yours.

You had served as his assistant for far too many years, becoming accustomed to his unpredictable behavior. Yet, deep down, he knew you wouldn’t dare act against him with all his guards surrounding him.

You were a capable assassin, more than capable of matching his malevolence, but you were just one woman up against his entire army. He was well aware of your skills, which is precisely why he always kept a close contingent of guards present during your meetings in his office. You were his most valuable asset, yet he was frightened of what you could do if pushed too far.

Despite this knowledge, he often seemed to forget the extent of your capabilities, choosing instead to provoke Sylus.

“Her.”

“No.” Your response was immediate, your tone firm. He couldn’t be serious.

Dante’s chest shook with laughter beside you, his golden teeth glinting in the light.

“She’s off the table, I’m afraid,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Very well, then.” Sylus retracted from the table and rose to his full height, a shadow looming over both you and your boss. “So is the deal. Have a good one, Mr. Dante.”

Your shoulders relaxed for only a brief moment, but before you could even blink, you found yourself lifted off your feet and thrown over the table like a ragdoll.

Fucking bastard.

Of course, the deal was too important for him to let it slip away. Sylus knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled this stunt.

“Don’t even think about it,” you spat, your voice harsh and defiant. “I am your right hand; your business will crumble without me!”

Sylus seemed to revel in the chaos, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. As his black-red mist began to swirl around the room, it coalesced around your body, lifting you off the table and bringing you effortlessly to his side.

Your struggles were utterly futile. No power could match his evol.

“Bastard!” you yelled, directing your fury at your boss.

Dante let out a deep sigh, visibly irritated but choosing to remain silent. His organization was already on the brink of collapse, a fact known only to you—and apparently Sylus too. That was the reason he had recently struck a deal with Onychinus; only their resources could possibly uplift him now—if anyone could, that is.

“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Dante.”

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The plush sofa of his dimly lit living room felt uncomfortably rough against your bare thighs as you took in your surroundings. Your revealing dress had ridden up significantly due to the twins’ rough handling as they placed you there, while their boss prowled around the sofa like a predator circling its prey.

The record player in the corner emitted a classical melody that only heightened the unnerving atmosphere, each note echoing with an eerie elegance.

“So uptight,” Sylus whispered in your ear, causing you to jump as his breath brushed against your skin. You hadn’t even noticed when he had gotten so close. “My, my… and so jumpy, aren’t we, kitten? Just try not to scratch my ceiling.”

You turned to glare at him, and if looks could kill, he would have been slain by the fire in your eyes. Nevertheless, you managed to keep your voice steady. “Why am I here?”

He didn’t bother to meet your gaze as he sank into his enormous cushioned chair across from you. A black-and-red mist began to swirl around your body once more, and before you could react, it lifted you off the couch and positioned you right on his lap, straddling him.

“What the hell?”

His hand shot up, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Shh, just keep your claws sheathed for a moment.”

You could feel your patience wearing thin. “Why. am I. here?”

Sylus's jaw tightened slightly, and if you weren’t intently observing his every expression, you might have missed it. “Because, kitten, Dante and I had a transaction.”

“Isn’t your typical price protocores when dealing with my boss?”

“Typically…” Sylus’s gaze was fixed on your face as an eerie silence enveloped the room.

Before you could process his words, his hand snaked around your throat, pulling you closer. His eyes locked onto your lips, a predatory glint flickering within them.

“What are you doing…” you whispered, your body tensing in instinctive response.

“Show me, kitten.”

“What?”

Sylus chuckled softly, a mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. “I know you’re a smart kitten; don’t play dumb with me. It won’t help you.”

Of course, you understood what he was implying, but how did he know?

“I have no idea what you want,” you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

His hand tightened around your throat, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. Then you noticed it—the red glow of his eye—and you realized what he was doing. “Show me.”

Ironically, he was now in control of your actions, even though he sought the opposite.

You slowly removed your glove, compelled by the white-haired man in front of you. Your bare hand pressed firmly against his chest, and in an instant, his heartbeat ceased.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

You stared at his face, dumbfounded, as the glow in his eye faded and his complexion turned an ashen pale. Before you could comprehend what was happening, a low chuckle echoed through the dimly lit room.

Sylus’s chuckle. He was alive. Wait, what the hell?

His laughter grew more vibrant with each passing second as he took in your horrified expression. You shot your hand out again, daring to touch him, but he caught your wrist, tossing it aside with ease.

“Ravishing…” he breathed, his eyes darkening to a richer shade.

You watched him for a moment, trying to make sense of everything that had unfolded in the past few hours, until suddenly, everything clicked into place.

You gasped.

“You fucking bastard!” you shouted, fury igniting in your voice. “Is this why you didn’t take the protocores? Is this why you asked for me?”

Sylus’s arrogant smirk returned, dominating his features. “He wasn’t aware of the precious possession he had in his own house, sweetie. But I am.”

“You are… sick.” The expression on his face darkened, and something twisted in your gut, though you wished it was anything but excitement at his subtle praise. “You will not control me. I belong to no one.”

“Oh, kitten, I’m not trying to control you. This is just… a deal.” His eyebrows shot up, his face tilting slightly to the side as if he found your defiance amusing. “Isn’t business what you excel at? Or do you want me to believe it was Dante who called the shots?”

Your own expression faltered, but your body began to relax atop his, a fact he noted with a small, apprehensive smile that curled at his lips. “Are you trying to extract intel from me?”

He rolled his eyes at your tactics, a playful smirk on his face. “You are so gullible, kitten.”

He leaned in impossibly close, your breath catching in your throat and a shiver coursing through you as your body responded to his proximity. This was all so wrong.

“He didn’t value you nearly enough, sweetie,” Sylus whispered against your pulse, his warm breath sending a jolt through you. “But I can.” His teeth grazed your throat, and as your mouth opened, no sound dared to escape your lips.

“I…” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I have no idea what—”

In one swift movement, you found yourself perched on the edge of the chair, Sylus looming over you like a consuming inferno. Your chests were nearly touching, and his eyes held a dangerous allure as he stared directly into your own. “I believe you do.”

His hand drifted from beside your head, descending to your collarbone as his fingertips caressed the delicate skin with a featherlight touch. “You can end someone with just a touch…” he whispered against your neck, and you had to fight against the electric shivers coursing through your body. “I am the only person you can’t kill, even if you tried, kitten.”

Your mind was slowly turning to mush as his hand roamed over the sensitive swell of your breasts, his lips planting tender kisses against your throat. “Don’t you see where I’m going with this? We’re meant for each other. Kindred spirits.”

“You’re insane,” you wanted to accuse him, but your voice came out breathless, betraying your mounting desire. A soft grunt escaped his lips, a sound that only fueled the tension between you.

“If I’m insane, what does that say about you, sweetie?” He began kissing his way down from your neck to your collarbone, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “I can smell your arousal from up here.”

You gasped at his bold accusation, your body jerking in response, but it only heightened the sensation as your clothed core pressed against his torso. You tensed, and his lips curled into a dangerous smirk. “So insatiable…”

“This is so wrong…”

“I’ve never been a righteous man.”

You leaned back instinctively, your hands reaching out as if to find comfort around his neck, but he halted your movement just before contact.

In your hazy state, you noticed him licking his lips, his gaze searching the floor for something—your glove.

“As much as I can’t think of another way to go, I’d prefer to be fully conscious when your pretty cunt is all over my mouth.”

“You’re… outrageous,” your voice faltered, betraying the rush of emotions coursing through you. Your body reacted in ways that contradicted your words.

“Do you prefer gentle, kitten?” Sylus asked, his fingers teasingly tugging at the neckline of your dress, unveiling your flushed skin. His tongue flicked over your right nipple, while his other hand caressed the neglected one. “Would you rather I whisper sweet nothings and cherish you gently?”

His tone dripped with playful mockery, and you arched your back, responding instinctively to his touch and taunting words.

“Would you like me to take it slow? To tell you how beautiful you are?” he teased, his laughter rumbling softly in the air.

Your resolve crumbled as he nipped at your sensitive bud, his hand expertly working the other. “No!” you moaned, your gloved fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, caught in the intoxicating desire in the air.

He growled against your chest, his body pressing forcefully against your legs as they parted to accommodate him. He felt a thrill of compliance wash over you, nearly tempting him to follow through on his suggestion to take it easy.

“More,” you demanded, your fingers tugging insistently at his head, guiding him downward to where your dress had pooled around your waist, leaving your red lace panties tantalizingly exposed.

Sylus grinned at your eagerness, his gaze lingering on your clothed cunt. “God, kitten…” he grunted, pressing his nose against the damp spot on your panties, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks as a thrill of shame coursed through you. “Did you wear my favorite color on purpose?”

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Or did you wear it for him?”

You could only whimper in response, arching your body desperately to bring his face where you craved it most. Instead, a sharp sting greeted your cunt, your eyes widening as a gasp of surprise escaped your lips.

He slapped your pussy again, his expression darkening into a scowl. “Answer me, kitten. Did you get all dolled up for him?”

You clenched around nothing, the possessiveness in his tone igniting a deeper need within you. “No,” you whimpered softly. “It wasn’t for him.”

In an instant, he tore your panties away, his mouth descending on your cunt, his tongue skillfully lapping at your folds. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Your fingers clawed at his shoulder, sounds of pleasure escaping you uncontrollably as he toyed with your sensitive clit. “Such a sweet pussy,” he grunted against your core, sending shivers through your body. You slid down the chair, his face pressed firmly against you, your lower body lifted almost into the air. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he devoured you.

“Say my name, kitten.”

You felt yourself teetering on the edge, already giving him too much. “N-no.”

His teeth grazed your clit, sending waves of pleasure and frustration coursing through you as he slid one finger against your entrance, teasingly. “No?”

“No.” Your voice trembled, betraying the mix of emotions swelling within you as you neared your release with each stroke of his tongue, yet your stubbornness held firm.

“Very well, then.” In an instant, his mouth was gone, leaving you feeling cold and exposed as he stood to his full height.

“What…?”

Sylus leaned over you again, delivering a sharp slap to the side of your breasts that made you squirm and gasp. “This is my zone. My side of the board. Here, you either play by my rules and win, or you go against me and lose.” His voice was low and commanding as his hand reached down again, sliding two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. “What will it be, kitten?”

By this point, your entire body felt like it belonged to someone else. “Please…” Your voice was laced with desperation, the plea spilling from your lips, unrecognizable even to you.

“Please what? Just say it, sweetie,” he urged, a teasing glint in his eyes.

His fingers quickened their pace, and your legs trembled under the mounting pleasure, each mewl that escaped your lips a symphony to his ears. “So—Oh my god… S-so close.”

The moment he sensed your walls beginning to clench around his fingers, a satisfied smile crept across his face, and you returned it through a haze of bliss—until you felt him start to withdraw.

Your hand shot out, wrapping around his wrist with a desperate grip, pulling him back toward you. “Sylus!” you cried, your stomach twisting in knots as sweet release threatened to crash over you.

“Sylus, yes, oh my god, yes…” You were barely coherent, the words tumbling from your mouth, but Sylus grunted, his pants taut against his rock-hard cock.

“That’s it… That’s it, sweetie, I know. Drench my fingers; they’re all yours.” He moved with an urgency that took your breath away, thrusting deeply inside you, sending shivers through your entire body as you rode the wave of your climax.

You panted, your chest rising and falling heavily. As the haze began to lift, your mouth fell open in awe, watching Sylus suckle on his fingers, his eyes glowing with satisfaction as he savored your essence.

A fresh wave of slickness coated your folds, and Sylus cursed under his breath as he stood, taking you with him. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your bare, wet cunt smearing against the fabric of his pants, leaving a tantalizing mess.

The coarse material of his attire heightened your senses, making your body arch in his arms as you ground your hips down, chasing that blissful friction.

“So eager…” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin before he nipped at your earlobe. “And so fucking wet.” He strode toward his desk just a few feet away, easing you onto your feet. “I’m going to devour you.”

In one swift motion, your belly pressed against the polished surface of his mahogany desk, your body bent over, your ass perfectly positioned for him. He didn’t allow you a moment to breathe before two sharp slaps landed on your cheeks, your body jolting forward in response.

Your moans filled the air, driving him wild, and the way your back arched instinctively shattered any semblance of his control.

You heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper, and a thrill raced through you as his cock was freed from its confines, teasingly brushing against your entrance.

Turning your head over your shoulder, your eyes fell on him, and a rush of desire coursed through you. He was enormous, his veins prominent and pulsing, the tip glistening with precum that trickled down, landing directly on your cunt.

“Sylus…” You brought his attention back to you, and the look on your face made his brows knot slightly in concern.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” he asked, his voice thick with lust yet surprisingly calm. “Do you want me to stop?”

You placed your hand lightly against his abdomen, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, and shook your head. “No, it’s just…” Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, almost mirroring the color of his eyes. “It’s not going to fit.”

Sylus paused, momentarily dumbfounded, before releasing the breath he had been holding along with a low chuckle. “We’re going to make it fit, kitten.”

Skepticism flickered in your eyes, and he noticed.

“Do you trust me?”

“No.” You answered honestly. He had been your rival until now, and you couldn’t fully grasp how your dynamic had shifted to this moment, you bent over his desk, spread  and exposed.

He grinned, shaking his head in amusement. “You shouldn’t.”

In one powerful thrust, he was inside you, and your eyes rolled back in your head as pleasure surged through your body, overwhelming your senses.

“Fuck!” you cried out, but there was no pain—he seemed to know exactly how to plunge into you.

“Shit… You’re so tight,” Sylus growled, his hips slapping against yours as he took you roughly, driving deep against the surface of his desk. “It would’ve hurt more if I’d taken it slow, sweetie.”

It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to speak, but even if he could, you wouldn’t have heard him. Your mind was consumed with the exquisite fullness of his cock filling you completely.

Your eyes crossed as he continued to thrust in and out, your lips parted in a silent gasp, drool escaping the corner of your mouth and trickling down to the polished surface of his desk.

“Cock-hungry little whore,” he grunted, folding his body over yours to penetrate you even deeper. “And you claim you hate me.”

“I d-do,” you managed to moan, your legs trembling from the intensity of the sensations.

“You hate me, yet your sweet cunt is squeezing my cock like it’s her lover.”

Your mewls and whimpers grew louder with each thrust, your head spinning from the overwhelming pleasure. “Sylus…” you moaned his name, urging him onward toward his own release.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“I-I’m… s’close. So so close.” Tears were welling up in your eyes, and Sylus moaned deeply behind you as he felt your cunt squeezing him, clenching around him like he belonged there. Because he did. 

His hand shot up, wrapping around your throat as he kept pounding you from behind, his whole desk shaking from the force of his thrusts. You were sure a bruise would form on your abdomen where it made contact with the wood. 

Your eyes rolled as he applied more pressure, making it difficult for you to breathe. “Such a pretty kitten…” He moaned in your ear. “And now she’s collared. As she should be.”

Your orgasm broke through you with a new force, the tears escaping your eyes and your cries lulling Sylus to fall on his own release right after you.

“Fuck.” He moaned, his teeth clamping down on your shoulder. Rope after rope of cum filled your cunt, his thighs shaking slightly from behind you as he emptied himself inside you. 

You were so overstimulated and sensitive by your encounter when Sylus caught his dripping cum from your thighs and pushed it right back in.

Your legs threatened to give out, your mind clouding the moment he began to fill you with his seed once more. “Such a pretty cunt, used and bred by me,” Sylus murmured, his voice low and possessive. “What will your boss say when my kids are running around his base, huh?”

You weren’t even aware of how or when it happened, but suddenly you were moaning his name, sweet and desperate, as you drenched him once again. This time, the force of your release was blinding, your vision fading to a brilliant white.

Confused, you turned to see Sylus, his abdomen glistening with your essence, his fingers slick and dripping as he stared at you with a manic edge in his eyes.

“Oh my God…” Heat rushed to your cheeks as the realization of what you had just done washed over you. “I’m sorry… Sylus, I’m—”

Before you could finish, his hand pressed firmly against your lower back, forcing you back into position as you tried to shrink away from his gaze. “Kitten…” His voice was taut, barely contained. “We’re not leaving this room until you do this again.”

[aglaias-blog]

"Wicked Game"

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Author's note: in honour of my 9 year anniversary on this hellsite and us finally getting fed with some new hotd content, here is my contribution to whatever the craziness of the last two days was.

I saw this post by the amazing, the great @ewanmitchellcrumbs and thought that I had to post this, it was in my drafts far too long haha Feedback is welcome and appreciated 💖

TW: dub!con, MDNI, afab!reader, fem!reader, degradation kink, jealousy, hatefucking, possessiveness, Aemond is a meanie, reader is a brat

Summary: You make Aemond jealous on purpose as a punishment for him always having his eye on you. But his reaction is clearly more than you have bargained for.

Taglist: @watercolorskyy

Never before had you seen your husband this angry. Sure, he had had his moments – when you had barged into the Small Council to give the King a piece of your mind or when you had humiliated him in front of his brother – and countless other instances. But never infuriated like this.

It had been a perfectly good day in the Red Keep. You were just walking past the Armory when you had seen Ser Davios Rane. He had become a good friend of yours over the years, since you had been married to Prince Aemond. It was a simple conversation; friendly, but reserved, as usual.

The courtyard was buzzing with people in preparation for King Aegon’s name day festivities: servants running around, carrying baskets, tapestries, tableware and many other things from one place to another, the invited Lords and Ladies just arriving taking a look at the Red Keep, engaging in conversation.

Yet somehow your husband had managed to see only you - and just the part of the conversation where you had laughed at Ser Rane’s comment - and put your hand on his arm. A grave mistake, you had realised immediately.

Aemond had been by your side in an instant, cutting the conversation embarrassingly short. You hadn’t even seen him coming, it was the frightened expression on Ser Rane’s face that had betrayed the arrival of your husband.

He had scolded you in front of everybody present – quietly, of course, but it was obvious that they knew what was happening by his body language alone. Servants had stopped in their tracks to observe the humiliating spectacle, the nobility’s conversations had quietened down to hear his heated whispers. And you – well, you had only ripped your arm from the tight grip he had your wrist in, and ran away. As childish as it was, you couldn’t stand being gawked at while your husband chastised you like a little child. Of course, he had followed you, but not before throwing a threatening glare in Ser Rane’s direction. He would take care of him later.

You hadn’t meant to make him jealous – at first. It was only when you had felt his sharp gaze on you everytime you spoke with somebody – be it a servant, a Lady, a Lord, a goldcloak – that you wanted to give him something to look at. A sort of punishment for always stalking you, for never trusting you enough to follow his rules. Surely, it couldn’t hurt to teach him a little lesson?

Well, now he was chasing you through the corridors of the Keep, taking his jealousy out on you.

„Are you content now? Was it your plot to infuriate me like this?“

Your husband had talked himself into a rage since you both had left the middle bailey, following you to your shared quarters. His face was marred by unadulterated wrath, his predatory gaze focused only on you.

„You are a Princess of this house! You’re much too sharp to think that it would be seemly to throw yourself at some goldcloak in this shameful manner!“

You had only wished to make him a little jealous – you should have known better. There was no moderation with Aemond Targaryen, only extremes. And once he whipped himself into this obsessive state, he was insufferable to be around. No word of explanation would get through to him.

„Did you think that I wouldn’t see? Attracting the attention of a mere goldcloak, in broad daylight, too, like a common whore!“

You couldn’t stand the thought of being in his presence any longer. He would drive you insane, you were sure of it! So, once in your quarters, you ran to open the door to your bedchamber and darted inside.

The sound of the lock turning sounded absurdly loud in the sudden silence.

„Open the door.“

His voice sounded treacherously calm.

You had leant against the table opposite the door, your trembling fingers gripping it tightly, your chest heaving with quick breaths of anticipation. What could he do now?

Tipping your head back, the tense giddiness in your body broke out of you in gleeful laughter.

„Open the door. Now!“

Oh, how you loved having him at your mercy.

„Say ‚Please, my love, be so kind as to open the door‘!“, you yelled, giggling.

„No“, was the only response that passed through the door.

„Fuck you, then!“

Your anger had returned with a sudden force. Who did he think he was? He had humiliated you in front of everybody, the whole court had borne witness to your embarrassment! How did he have the gall to talk to you as if to a little child? He could rot in the seventh Hell for all you cared!

He hadn’t responded yet. The sudden silence was highly suspicious. Did he give up - had he actually left? Oh, he was no fun!

Your victorious smile was wiped from your face the moment you heard the crash. Through splintered wood flying into all directions, your husband appeared on the threshold – breathing heavily, bearing his teeth, his gaze wild - the embodiment of fury.

After three quick strides he lunged himself at you – his hand painfully gripping your jaw, towering over you.

„You forget yourself, wife“, he snarled through gritted teeth, the vein in his forehead throbbing.

„You should have the good sense to remember your place.“

You simply stared up him calmly, defiantly, searching for the darkness in his eye that let you know that he was almost there, almost – before spitting in his face.

Before you had time to think, your head was whipped to the side, the heat of your blood throbbing in the place where his hand had just been. The slap had come out of nowhere - the sharp sting of pain in your cheek forced tears into your eyes – and yet you couldn’t help the wicked smile that formed on your lips. You had him exactly where you wanted him now, and he had fallen right into your trap.

This was the twisted game you played. You both knew it. Yet it didn’t feel like you were pretending. The rage was real. And so was the intoxicating thrill.

„Oh, this is all a game to you, isn’t it?“, he sneered, nostrils flaring. Let’s see if this is still a game to you now.

„Bend over.“

„No.“

„I’m not going to repeat myself.“

„Make me, then“, you said brattily, challenging him to make good on his word.

And he did. In the blink of an eye, he had his hand in your hair, turning you on your stomach and slamming your face into the table.

You felt your heartbeat in your whole body for the few seconds it took him to bunch up your skirt and loosen the ties on his breeches – you couldn’t move, his hand on your neck forced you to stay still, his leg between your thighs made sure that you kept them apart.

And before you knew what was happening, he sank into your wetness, immediately setting an unforgiving pace. He allowed you no time to adjust, completely merciless. You cried out, struggling against his hand that held you down, hands blindly reaching behind you, clawing at whatever part of his body you could reach. It was no use though – he wouldn’t slow down.

You could only hear him groan depravedly in response - he liked the way you tried to fight him, it dawned on you. The more you tried to resist him, the faster he slammed into you. Fed up with your antics, he grabbed both of your hands in his, bent forward and slammed them above your head. The new angle made your knees buckle.

„Don’t go weak on me now, wife“, he laughed into your ear. He laughed!

„Smug cunt“, you moaned. Immediately, you received your punishment. The sting on your ass hurt less than his hand in your hair, yanking you up against him, forcing you to arch your back almost painfully.

„Think you’re too good for me? Hm?“ His laboured breathing was hot on your neck. „But good enough for Davios Rane?“ He spat the name like a curse.

You could only whine in response, not being able to stop the desperate moans.

„Should we open the window, let him hear you? Hmm?“

He slammed into with such force then that it made you squeal. You couldn’t get a word out. With your eyes rolled back you couldn’t even formulate a simple thought.

„No? Then shut - your fucking - mouth“, he growled, emphasising each word with a thrust.

You couldn’t. You tried, you truly did, yet you failed miserably. Your body reacted before you had time to think, the loud pleasured whimpers and moans fell from your mouth before you could try to control them. He forced them out of you with each of his rough movements, knowing well that you had lost control over your own body.

He placed his other hand on your mouth to muffle your whines for you. The sharp edge of the table digging into your hips over and over again combined with his painfully pleasurable thrusts forced humiliating tears into your eyes. He could feel them flow over his hand down to your chin.

„Oh, are you sorry now?“

„Mmph!“, was the only muffled sound that passed through his hand on your mouth, as you shook your head ‚no‘.

„Say it“, he growled. „You know damn well that you need this, you’d do well to say it. Now!“ He lifted his hand from your mouth, giving you a chance to do as he told you.

„Detestable bastard!“, you only spat out through sobs, your hair still twisted painfully in his hand.

„What was that?“, he said harshly, stilling his movement completely, threatening to pull out.

„You’re sick, Aemond!“ Who cared if he left you now? You certainly didn’t! At least you would be left with your pride intact.

Yet, when he pulled out of you, the vast emptiness you felt made your heart ache. You regretted every single word you had said up until that point.

„N-no, I’ll say it!“, you sobbed, hating that he had this power over you. Hating that he could make you hate yourself, taking your dignity like this. Making you weak.

Patiently he waited for the words he had demanded. „Go on, humiliate yourself. Like you humiliated me“, he growled in your ear. Abruptly, he pulled your head farther back to get a better look at you. His fevered gaze was on you, as he watched your tear-stained face intently, curious as to what choice you would make.

He not only wanted you to swallow your pride; he wanted you to crush it, destroy it completely in a display of sacrilegious devotion to him.

Tears of shame were running down your face freely now. You didn’t want to do as he told you, hadn’t he degraded you enough already? This was more than you had bargained for – you hadn’t expected him to react this way when you had started your little game earlier in the day.

Now you had to pay the price for having dared to challenge him.

The feeling of his cock between your thighs made sheer desperation curse through your veins. You wanted him so badly, it was driving you mad! It would’ve been so easy to just- just wriggle down a bit to-

„Don’t!“, he hissed, biting down on your shoulder. Hard.

It broke you.

„I’m sorry!“, you cried. Through your sobs your words were almost unintelligible. „I’m sorry, I didn’t – I-I don’t care about him, I just – I need you, only you, please, Aemond-“

It truly was a pitiful sight – and disturbingly arousing. His wife with her dress sliding down to her waist, begging for him, her tears streaming down to her bare chest, degrading herself– all this only to have his cock inside her again. With a sick satisfied smirk, he watched you babbling on, only gibberish leaving your mouth now. He had driven you to your breaking point.

And now, you needed to learn your lesson. He let go of your hair suddenly, letting you fall back on the table weakly.

Your jaw went slack, eyes rolling back, when you felt him slide back into you with one smooth movement, settling back into his merciless pace, two hands holding your hips in a bruising grip - pounding you as if he hated you. You rested your head on the tear-soaked surface of the table, moving with every delicious thrust he gave you. With your eyes closed, you gave yourself completely to the sensation, to him.

He was everywhere, all around you, in your nose, your hair, your body, your mind, your soul.

„Fuck“, you heard him curse with a trembling breath. He had bunched up the fabric of your dress over your hips, watching his cock disappear inside you over and over again. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight – the way your glistening cunt swallowed him whole, coating his cock in your wetness was simply too much. The perverse sound of your slickness alone would drive him mad, he was sure of it.

He had to remind you that you were his, that he possessed you completely. He couldn't allow you to forget it - he had to ensure that the only thing he held dear in his life would never dare leave him. It was this wicked desire that drove him to insanity everytime he saw you with somebody else, somebody who wasn’t him.

„I own you“, he moaned, his hand had found its place in your hair again – twisting it threateningly when you didn’t respond. He didn’t allow you enough time to catch your breath, you had to concentrate to form any sensible words.

„I’m yours“, you responded hoarsely, without resistance this time. „Only yours, Aemond, yours, yours, yours…“ Like a prayer you mumbled the words – yet it felt like somebody else had put them there.

His eyes rolled back in his skull with a helpless groan at your admission. Those were the only words he ever wanted to hear you say - such a shame that he had to force them out of you brutally.

He could make you say anything he wanted, but your body was yours, still. You knew him like yourself, you anticipated what he would want, long before he said it out loud – so you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of reaching your peak on his cock simply because he told you to.

He could fuck you stupid, and you would refuse him what he most wanted – an admission of carnal weakness.

But the terror crept up on you slowly, and with your eyes wide with fear it dawned on you - this little rest of resistance had already been crushed. Your body had cruelly betrayed your mind.

The savage groan Aemond gave when he felt you clench around him wiped all thoughts from your mind. He didn’t withhold his moans, showing you so openly the pleasure your body gave him – it made you squeeze down on him again. It was raw, primal – beyond your control.

In an effort to stifle his groans he bent forward, sinking his teeth into your shoulder again, making sure to leave a mark.

„Your body knows it belongs to me“, he cooed. „No matter how convincingly you try to deny it.“

The hand that had been in your hair now moved around your hip, finding its way between your trembling thighs.

„N- no!“, you gasped, trying to squirm out of his grasp. „Aemond, please!“

Your humiliation would be complete should you give in to him now. You could pretend that he didn’t own your mind, but you couldn’t pretend with your body – it knew that it was his. It was honest. Always. And he knew it.

„Oh, you don’t want to reach your peak?“, he chuckled darkly.

„There’s no use in lying, wife. I can feel you clenching around me.“

He groaned again when your body proved him right.

„Your treacherous body belies your words.“

He knew that he had to draw your peak from you tenderly, he couldn’t brutally force it, like he forced those beautiful sounds from your throat.

The sudden sensation of his soft fingers overwhelmed you entirely – it was so in contrast to his harsh words and his merciless thrusts inside you. Your whole body was fragile now, having been so abandoned by loving touch that you jolted in his grip the moment his fingers gently made contact with the most delicate part of your body.

His other hand went to your shoulders, immediately pushing you down when he noticed you trying to get up again. You couldn’t let him do this, you couldn’t, you had to-

„Don’t - refuse me!“, he gritted out through clenched teeth. With his brow furrowed, he had to focus on his fingers on your cunt - he would come undone this very moment should he allow himself to take in the glorious sight in front of him, feel your writhing body underneath his hands, pushing him away and pulling him in at the same time.

„Please!“, you choked out. You didn’t know what you were begging for. For him to stop? For him to continue?

You had been prepared to withstand his roughness, thinking that he would use you for his own pleasure and then cast you aside. You had been starving for his kisses, adoring words and gentle caresses on your body – you had been so hungry for any sign of love that his unexpected soft touch on you now would make you fall apart.

The feeling of lightness cursed through you, as your mind went numb. Your body, however, felt his every move – outside of you, inside of you, around you, all at once.

The lighter you felt, the hotter the pleasure coiling in your stomach became - you tried to fight it until the end, defying the urge to give in to the warmth that spread from your innermost core – and then it effortlessly crashed over you in waves, pulling you under, drowning your resistance completely.

As if under water, you heard him come undone behind you, spilling himself inside you with choked moans and curses, gripping your hips so tightly, so painfully tight…

And then - floating. You were floating. He had pushed you too far. You didn’t feel anything anymore - you had slipped into a place where time had no meaning.

You felt weightless and then crushed down to earth again - heaviness and lightness played their ever-changing game with you.

You tried your best to find a way out of the fog in your mind, but you were just so tired, so utterly spent…You didn’t want to think, to fight, to do anything – surrendering to the divine nothingness seemed so inviting now, you wanted to stay in its warmth, to just float forever…

[marvelnatr]

Lingering love 18+

Warnings: Dom!Nat, Daddy kink, sub!reader, makeup sex, oral Natasha!receiving, strap on use, size kink, praise, a little mocking, breeding strap & kink.

I know I know. I started classes up again. But I’m getting back into the rhythm. Enjoy this smut as an apology. Not proof read!!!

Natasha’s POV:

“Y/N lets fucking go! We gotta get moving!”. I stood by the loading dock of the Quinn jet as Y/N threw her duffle in her seat beside her. She was visibly annoyed and pouting like a petulant child over the fact she had to do a mission with me. Closing the door I looked at her “look at me Y/N”. The girls eyes stayed trained to the pocket knife she was holding, fiddling with the blade and paying me no mind. Leaning over her I whispered “Y/N please, I don’t wanna be doing this anymore then you do”. I rested my hand on my ex-girlfriends arm, trying to gain a little of her attention, simply for her to shrug me off and go to her armory cabinet. Giving her the space she wanted I headed to pilot the plane.

I’m not surprised she needs space. I honestly thought I’d never see her again, she left the agency four years ago after our breakup. It was only recently Fury had the idea to bring her on this next mission. Y/N was smart and I hated to agree that we needed her expertise. We need someone who was going to always be one step in front of our target in the technological way and Y/N was the best we’d seen since Daisy. Not much about her has changed since she left. Her hair is a bit longer and she’s colder then I remember.

We were headed to Germany for the next two weeks to follow our target. He was good at covering his tracks. Phenomenal even. I put in the address to our safe house in Bremen. Of course Fury put us in the heart of one of the highest crime rated cities. Y/N had finished getting settled in and started reading her book. She used to sit up front with me, she was always mesmerized when it was clear enough to see the illuminated cities below us as we traveled. I miss those times.

- Time Skip -

Landing the Quinn jet in our private air field I turned on cloaking. Getting up and stretching after a long flight felt amazing. Glancing over at Y/N she was dead asleep with her book rested on her chest. Y/N always looked so peaceful when she’d sleep and I always hated waking her up. Sitting beside her I whispered gently “Y/N we’re here”. Shuffling away from me I sighed and placed my hand on her shoulder “Y/N wake up”. Jumping a little she woke up and stared at me. Panic flooded over her face for a second before it subsided. I watched her “I’m sorry hon I didn’t mean to scare you”. Huffing she threw the blanket off her lap and got up “you didn’t and don’t call me hon”. Nodding I watched her, rubbing my hands over my thighs before standing “alright then”.

Out of instinct I went for Y/N’s duffle bag to carry in but she stepped in front of me before I could and grabbed it, slinging the bag over her shoulder and glaring at me “I got it Natasha” nodding a bit I grabbed my own bag then headed to our safe house. After clearing the place I put my bags on the bed, the air was thick with dust as it had been a while since the safe house was used. I pointed to the window closest to Y/N “open that will you? I want air circulating through here”. An eyes roll and a huff later the window was opened, nodding I went into the bedroom, starting to place my weapons on the bed. A few seconds later I heard a grumble and a string of curse words flying from Y/N’s mouth down the hall. Leaning in view of the doorway I called out “what’s wrong?”. Looking at me she grumbled “there’s only one bed”. My eyes traveled to the bed then back to her, i didn’t mind sleeping in the same bed as her but Y/N definitely minded sleeping in the bed with me. Nodding I threw my pillows on the floor “I’ll take the floor”.

The next morning Y/N was up early. Earlier than me. Hearing the door open I grabbed my weapon, quickly turning to the door just to see Y/N standing with coffee. Rolling my eyes I put the gun back in the mid of my back while lightly scolding her “announce yourself when you walk into the house and tell me where you’re going”. Scoffing she sat at the table “no, I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my dom”, placing down the knife on the cutting board I turned to her “stop being such a fucking smart ass. I know I’m not your dom. I’m trying to keep us safe. Do as your told”. Shutting up a bit Y/N put sugar in her coffee, stirring the cup as a silence fell over her. I mixed the peppers with the eggs and poured them into the pan “would you like an omelet Y/N?”. Seems that she had elected to ignore me as she brought her coffee to the room. Shaking my head I continued cooking.

A few minutes later I heard the door open again and rolled my eyes “for fucks sake Y/N what did I just say-“ just as I finished my sentence Y/N was in the hallway shooting at the man in our safe house “come on miss black widow fucking help me out here!” Drawing my gun I shot at the mans hand, taking him down then turning my attention to the man who had Y/N in a head lock. Running over to her I took him down as well, Y/N bent over with her hands rested on her knees to catch her breath, wheezing out “I had him”. Rolling my eyes I looked at her for a second scoffing “clearly”. Standing up she rubbed her neck “that was sarcastic” I laughed while checking my magazine and put it back in “no shit”. Y/N stepped over the body and looked at me, clearly she was annoyed. She had no right to be. I saved her ass. Still she spat “will you knock it off? I can handle myself perfectly fine”. Ignoring her I began to pull the weapons off the body “obviously you can’t” . Y/N glared at me then started to leave with gritted teeth, stomping through the house like a petulant child. I watched her, raising my eyebrows and giving her a glare “get your ass back here and help me with these bodies”

-Time skip-

Your POV:

After moving the bodies with Nat I just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide. I hated the way she still had a hold of me. The way a part of me still loved her after all these years. Getting up off the bed knocked on the door again “Natasha hurry up I really have to fucking pee”. A few seconds later the door swung open. Nat was wrapped in a towel still drying her hair with the towel. I stared at her for a minute. Inhaling the scent. She didn’t change her perfume. It’s still the same. Snapping her fingers she sang a little “earth to Y/N? Hello??”. The snapping broke me from my thoughts as I watched her “hm what?”. Natasha rolled her eyes “don’t you have to pee?”. Nodding I went passed her “right yeah. Thanks!”.

Finishing up I washed my hands and stared at myself in the mirror, unlocking the door and leaving it slightly open. Natasha came up behind me in sweatpants and a t-shirt “excuse me”, Nat reached under my arm and grabbed her tooth brush, dipping it in the water before swiping toothpaste over it and brushing her teeth. I have no fucking clue how she never made a mess of her mouth, it always baffled me. She’s so fucking pretty. She must’ve noticed me staring cause she raised her eyebrows at me “what is it Y/N?”. Clearing my throat a little I grabbed my hand towel, drying the water off my hands “nothing”. Natasha gave off her infamous smirk, folding her arms over her chest and taking the toothbrush out of her mouth. Looking up at her I tilted my head “what?”. Shaking her head she spit into the sink and rinsed her mouth, never breaking the cocky expression. I pushed her a little “why are you looking at me like that?”. Smirking at me she leaned against the counter “you’re blushing”, I felt my body heat up a little “I am not!”. Laughing nat placed her hand on my arm, teasing me and rubbing with a mocked pouted lip “mmm sure baby sure”

I felt my face heat up at the pet name and pushed her a little “oh shut up”. Laughing again she walked out of the bathroom “whatever you say hotshot”. Once I had finished up in the bathroom I headed to the room to see Nat laying in the bed and watching TV. We had watched TV in silence last night and I didn’t mind it. We liked the same shows. Getting comfy I climbed into bed shivering. It was so fucking cold here and I didnt really pack any warm pajamas. Looking over me Nat grabbed her hoodie and held it out for me. Shaking my head I whispered “I’m okay”, shaking her head she held it out more “take it Y/N, I dont want you getting sick”. Nodding a bit a took it and put it on. Staring at the small smile pulling at Nats lips.

The confession fell from my lips quicker then I could think, playing with my hands I mumbled “I miss you Natasha”. Natasha’s eyes left the screen as she watched me, her eyes pausing to examine me, as if she was unsure I was telling the truth or not. I watched as she processed my words. After a few minutes she sat forward “are you sure Y/N?”. Continuing to play with my fingers I nodded “I miss you. I miss your voice and your touch and your love. We let go too early”. She nodded and opened her arms for me, beckoning me to lay on her chest. Happily I rested my head down, my hand draped over her stomach. I continued to watch her lips. The lump in my throat still too afraid to ask for a kiss. But like always Natasha knew me. Knew my mannerisms. Natasha leaned down, pressing her lips to mine. My world felt whole again.

Natasha’s POV:

Y/N became putty in my lap. Her body sunk into mine as I kissed her. Petting her head I pulled away and whispered “would you like to try again love?” She nodded “hating you was the most exhausting thing I’ve ever done”. Smiling softly I pet her head and whispered “I’m sorry for how I acted years ago, it wasn’t right”. Y/N nodded and whispered “me too, I don’t know what was wrong with me”. Nodding I pet her head “so…what made you want to come back?”, a red tint fell over her cheeks as she whispered “I-I had a few partners….every time we did stuff all I could think about was you”. Jealousy and pride flooded through my body. Y/N wasn’t just my girlfriend she was my sub. I was proud all she thought about was me but the thought of someone else touching her drove me wild. Grabbing her jaw I looked at her “poor thing, I conditioned you didn’t I? Made you so addicted to daddy’s dick it’s all you could think about. You know you always fit me like a sleeve darling” a small whimper fell from her lips as I rubbed her jaw tutting “oh baby, tell me what you want”. Fiddling with her shirt she whispered “I-I want you to fuck me”

Smirking I nodded and rubbed her hip “how do you want me to do that?”. A whimper fell from her lips, I could tell she was getting frustrated. Tears pricked her eyes as I chuckled “oh baby, those pretty tears won’t get you any sympathy. You know I love seeing you cry”. A red tint fell over her cheeks, her eyes continuing to watch her shit. Watching her I snapped my fingers, the noise gaining her attention while I kept hold of her jaw “speak up baby”, I could feel the heat of her cheeks on my hand as she stuttered out “f-fingers and strap”. Nodding I rubbed her cheek “you’ll have to earn it baby, why don’t you go ahead and show me how sorry you are”. Taking off my pajama shorts I watched Y/N, her eyes lit up at the sight of my cunt and I chuckled “come on baby”.

Finding herself between my legs she looked up at me one last time. Nodding I placed my hand on the back of her head, beginning to guide her as she kitten licked my cunt. Her tongue ran through my folds, the feeling earning a moan from my lips. Pleasure surged through my body as I rutted my hips into Y/N’s face. Her moans causing more pleasure as I praised “good girl, fuck you’re doing such a good job for me baby”, I felt her tongue slope into me, my knuckles gripped the sheets while she began to rub my clit “f-fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum”. Gripping her hair into a makeshift ponytail I pulled at her while I came. A moan and a whimper falling from her lips at the newfound pain.

Releasing her hair I smiled down at her “you did such a good job for me love”. A red tint fell over her cheeks as she squirmed. Laughing I leaned forward “so fucking needy huh?”, catching her lip between her teeth she nodded, her embarrassment flooding her face. Sitting up I brought my thumb to her lip, gently pulling it out while whispering “it’s okay sweet girl, I know it’s been a while since you’ve been fucked properly”. Looking up at me Y/N whispered, the sentence barley audible “I’m gonna be really tight…”, clearing my throat a little I rubbed her chin. Of course I wanted to just fuck her with my strap right then and there. Let her feel the pain of the stretch. It’s what she deserves. Especially with the little attitude she gave me earlier. Kissing her gently I whispered “I’m going to get my strap, whatever time I’m gone is the time you have to stretch yourself out. Once I’m back you’re getting fucked”. Y/N quickly brought her hand down to her cunt, working on slipping two fingers in. I admired her for a moment before going to put on my strap. Luckily for her I grabbed the breeding one. And you bet your ass I was going to fill her up.

Walking back into the room a whimper fell from her lips. Chuckling I made my way to the bed then hovered over her. I watched for a minute. The way her chest was rising and falling, how flushed her face was. Stroking my hand over her cheek I smiled “so pretty, so fuckable for daddy hm?” Nodding she whimpered “y-yes daddy”. I sat up on my kneels and pulled her to me by her neck “come here baby, come get daddy nice and wet for you”. Grabbing the faux cock in her hand she began to suck, the job she was doing was damn near sad. Only taking half the dildo in her mouth. I tapped her cheek with my hand, her eyes quickly met mine as I watched her “you know damn well how I taught you to suck dick. Quit the straight shit and suck my strap properly baby. I don’t want to have to help you”. Y/N quickly fixed her mistake and began sucking me properly. Her pretty little gagging noises as tears began to prick her eyes. I could watch her do this all fucking day. Matter of fact she has before. That was a very fun punishment to conduct.

After a few more minutes I pulled her off “lay on your back detka”. Gently she laid down. The wet spot forming on the sheets from her cunt. Tutting I rubbed her hip “such a messy girl already, my poor bunny. So fucking desperate”. I teased the strap over her entrance, slipping the tip of the dildo in just to take it out. Just as she was about to open her mouth in another whiny protest I slipped into her. Filling her in one swift move. A small choked cry mixed with a moan fell from her lips. Leaning over her I kissed her “shhh baby I know, oh I know love, you’re so fucking tight for me”, whimpering she watched me “i-It’s too big daddy, it wont fit” chuckling I rubbed her hip “it’s all the way in bunny, you’re just tight. Don’t worry, daddy will make sure to stretch you out”. Moaning her head fell back into the pillow. My hands made their way to her hips as I lightly pinned her down, beginning to fuck into her. She looked so fucking pretty like this. More moans fell from her lips as she gripped the sheets. Looking at her I mocked a little “what? You’re gonna cum already baby? But daddy just started”. Y/N cried a little and whined “please, please let me cum please”. Tutting I shook my head “no bunny, you’re gonna have to wait, daddy wants to make sure you’re properly bred”

Y/N’s eyes widened in excitement, her cunt clenching around my strap slightly. Smirking I fucked into her “yeah, you want daddy to breed you? Make you mine again?” Another moan fell from her lips as she breathed out “yes daddy please, please fill me up”. Smirking I wrapped my hand around her throat then began fucking her into the mattress. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she began to whimper “p-please, I wanna cum daddy please”, giving in I nodded “cum for me baby, soak the sheets and stop thinking for a while”. Y/N’s back arched as she moaned, her screams ringing throughout the room while I filled her up, degrading her and praising her through it. My cum painting her velvety walls white. “That’s it bunny, my little breeding bitch huh? You’re doing so fucking good for daddy”. Her orgasm was nothing short of beautiful. The way her legs shook. The sounds she made. I stayed inside her while she came down from her high, rubbing her cheek and wiping the tears beginning to stain her face.

After a few minutes I rubbed her cheek “you doing okay love?” A small content hum fell from her lips as she cuddled into me. She’s so floaty and I love it. Gently pulling out I chuckled “alright my floaty girl, let’s get you cleaned up and we can cuddle”. After a nod I picked her up and ran us a bath. Joining her in the tub as he rested on me. After all this time she still fit into me like a puzzle piece. Her body weight was just perfect. I definitely missed my girl.

[matriarchjojo]

───ENVYING HIS ANGEL.

⌗ 𝐀𝐊!𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 + 𝐁𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝟏𝟖+, DARK CONTENT, kind of corruption kink, DUBCON, breeding, hint of ddlg, rough sex, spit, slight size kink, choking, slapping, harsh degradation turning into praise, chubby!reader, Jason's emotions are all over the place, implied Stockholm syndrome and kidnapping, little bit of soft love declaration, the "I can fix him" syndrome, finger sucking, mentioned forced cum eating, all characters are over 18, readers skin color is not mentioned

Your kidnapper comes back and he's acting weirder than usually

✧ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 ✧ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘!!

You were in the knights big and cold room, feeling the cold breeze on your bare skin dressed in nothing but that baby pink lingerie he has gifted you, waiting for him to come back from whatever he was doing all night, he never told you anything, he didn't need to, All you knew was that he had multiple dark blue and red bruises whenever he came back..maybe even some open wounds, like every other night.

The sound of loud and heavy steps suddenly but slowly came closer and closer until the metal door opened, and immediately got slammed back into it's doorframe.

your knight was finally back, standing tall and big in his impressive armor. He was quiet until you stood up from the bed "Honey, i—" "sit down."

His moduled voice demanded, giving you shivers and making you instinctively fall back onto the soft cream colored sheets "yes, sir.."

you looked up at him as he slouched towards the big mirror and closet as he took the helmet off, the way he moved seemed like he was hurt badly, he was leaning against the dresser by holding the door in a tight grip with his left hand.

Realistically, you shouldn't care about how hurt your kidnapper was but..you were already over questioning your feelings towards this dangerous man, your dumb mind just knew that you loved him..yeah, he kidnapped you but just like he told you "it's safer here, than outside.." and he was right, you would've been already dead in a ditch, on the cold streets outside the destroyed gotham,

or worse, "the horrible men outside could do horrible things to you". He made good points to you. even though he was even more dangerous than these men he was talking about, but he wanted to protect you..

"J-jay?.." you asked hesitantly as he slammed the helmet onto the desk, letting his natrual voice speak up "what?" It sounded almost annoyed, you knew he had a short temper. But that didn't stop you from pursuing him.

Your body twitched and you grabbed at the sheets, your throat was dry due to the fear you felt when he talked like that..but the thing is, the fear of him is what pulls you towards him. The fear you feel when looking at his tall form in his intimidating armor gets you excited like nothing else, knowing that he could beeak you in half just like that made you so, so wet. and he knows that too, you're not the best at hiding these feelings.

You stood back up and hugged his big and cold armored torso, you felt him immediately tense up "I missed you.."

His breath hitched softly as your hands took his armory off of his tense and sore body, Jason let out a soft almost incoherent sigh

"I get so lonely without you, jay" you were playing with fire talking to him like that, and you knew it but you felt like you had to tell him this everytime he came back. You knew under all that cold armor was just damaged, bruised and busted and neglected skin that needed to be taken care of.

You were done taking the pointy, wet and cold metal off him and put it back into the dresser, your warm hands went under his black shirt, feeling his cold skin. Jason tensed under your touch again and finally looked at you, he looked so good in the golden light of the built In lamps, radiating off his scarred and beautiful skin.

"You missed me?" His gruff and almost tired voice pulled at your poor heart strings, and the way his cold eyes that have seen most things that tou couldn't even comprehend stared into your untainted ones, so bright and warm.

You then nodded at his question and softly pressed your cheek into his strong back "I did.."

All of a sudden Jason turned to you and grabbed you by the throat as he pushed you towards the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. His grip was tight and barely let any air reach or leave your lungs "drop that pathetic act." He warned, his breath fanning over your face, you tried to look away but his hand forced you to look back at him.

"I fucking hate it when you act all innocent.." he paused to take a good look at you "it's sickening.. especially knowing what a filthy fucking slut you actually are." Don't get him wrong, he doesn't hate you for it, he hates himself. He wish he could look as innocent as you, but he just can't, all that innocence was taken away from him by a psychopathic clown, when he came back from the grave and woke up in this disgusting pit. He envies you.

You shook your head as best as you could and immediately felt a harsh sting on your cheek before Jason slammed you onto the made bed "don't fuckin' lie to me" he said through gritted teeth, you could almost feel his anger "I hate when you act like that.." he let out a bitter chuckle "acting like a sweet, innocent little housewife when we both know that you are far from that"

you looked up at him, you were confused, truly confused. You just tried to be nice to him, because you know he needs it. But he can't accept that, he's not used to it, he's confused by it. He's been forgotten and neglected, he doesn't understand why you were trying to be so sweet to him..

"You would drink my fucking cum from a cup if I gave it to you." His hand went from your throat up to squeeze your cheeks, you felt his knee firmly press up against your clothed clit, leading to you trying to suppress a little moan. "You would wear a fucking collar and a leash while I make you drink from a bowl full of cum, if I wanted you to..you're disgusting." You felt tears well up at your lash line as you desperately tried to avoid eye contact. "Ain't that right? Hm?"

Jason let out a gruff laugh seeing tears roll down your cheeks "now you're cryin'? Thinkin' you'll get me soft, hm? That won't work again, sweetheart." You choked down a sniffle, you cried because you knew everything he accused you of was true, but you also loved him..you really did, he opened up to you before, you know how he feels and what he went through..you couldn't believe him at first but his scars and that look in his eyes told you that he spoke the truth.

"J-jaso—" you got cut off by your own sharp gasp as Jason forced his hand down your panties, sliding his index and middle finger through your folds and let out another bitter laugh "fuckin' wet..of course you are.."

"Please, jason—please, stop" you whined, grabbing at his hands. but it was no use, Jason was obviously stronger and bigger than you. "Just say it." He groaned, looking down at you, slowly sinking his thick fingers into your tight cunt. "Say that you're a slut, fuckin' that loves to be pushed around by me, say it."

Jason knows deep down that you are, in fact, that innocent angel who's just a little dirty. But he sees himself in you and he wants you to admit how disgusting the two of you are.

"N-no—please, jay!" You plead in a broken moan as Jason's already finger fucking you, dragging his skilled fingers along your soft and sensitive walls. And it felt so fucking good, no matter how much his words hurt and degraded you..it still lit a fire deep inside of you, you liked having him talk to you like that, it felt good that someone had this much control over you. You needed this..

Once you protested again, Jason's palm hit your cheek once more. "I want you to say it." He threatened through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth as his grip tightened around your cheeks. You whimpered and involuntarily let your eyes roll back at the way he stroked that one specific spot inside of you. "There's that pretty look, hm? Just admit it" jason shook her head around in his palm and glanced down to your parted lips before coming closer to you, puckering up his lips and letting a string of spit drip into your mouth "swallow it." He demanded

After you did as he said, you moaned loudly as a strike of electricity ran through your entire body, even feeling it in the tips of your fingers with a few last strokes of his fingers inside of your cunt. Jason always loved to watch you cum, he was so entranced by how your face twisted in pleasure in such a beautiful expression that he almost forgot what he wanted you to do.

And then you made his brain crash all together with just three simple words that weighted so fucking heavy on him:

"I love you—" you cried, hot tears and spit sliding down your face, jason froze in place as those words left your drooling mouth. "..what?" He gasped and grabbed your fucked out face while his fingers kept overstimulating your poor, weeping cunt. "I-i—Jason! St-stopp!" You mewled but Jason shut you right up again "say what you just said again, please" if you didn't know any better, you'd say he almost sounded desperate.

Your big knight loosened his grip on your cheeks and just softly placed it on the side of your cheek "say it again, I wanna hear it" he swallowed as your eyes set on him, you could see the desperation in his eyes. He needed you to say it again. Jason doesn't think he ever heard anyone say these three words to him before, not his parents and sure as hell not batman, and that fact hurts him more than anything else but it pulls him so fucking close to you.

You gulped and gasped in a harsh breath "i-i said-" you swallowed again

"I love you, jason.."

He was gone at this point—his brain just shut off after feeling the sharp hit of your soft words, the way you said his name in such a soft and loving manner was breathtaking, he felt a bright and white hot fire burning in his stomach, His heart started hammering against his chest looking at your puffy eyes and lips.

"Fuck.." he let out a heavy breath and smashed his lips against yours, fingers still fucking you open. you were still whining and whimpering due to the overwhelming overstimulation, but his mouth was now swallowing all of your pathetic little sounds. Your hands tried to push Jason off you, you couldn't take this, especially because you were about to cum again.

"It's okay, it's okay..cum again" he reassured with a kiss to your forehead, you suddenly felt warm inside as Jason's gruff voice spoke softly against your ear, leading to you cumming again all over his fingers and the now disheveled sheets with a loud and desperate cry. Jason laid his head down on your chest and slowly stroked your sensitive walls, you started running your hand through his dark and soft hair as you felt your muscles soften, it was hard to move after that orgasm.

"Can you say it again?" He asked quietly against your damp skin, you smiled softly and just held him against your limp body "I love you, Jason"

Having you say it again to him, but while you're holding him like this with your hand stroking his hair and scalp, made him feel do weird and warm, he loved this feeling. "I really do.." Jason straightened his back and looked down at you before taking his shirt off, giving you a clear view of the long autopsy scar and a few smaller ones accompanied by blue and black wounds. But he looked so damn good. Jason slipped his finger under your bra strap to let it snap back in place against your skin. "Take it off for me.."

You nodded and reached behind you to unstrap your bra but your eyes caught Jason taking his tactical pants off, giving you a clear sight of his hard and huge cock in his dark red and tight boxers, you immediately spotted the wet spot at the head of his cock. You noticed you've been staring once jason pulled his boxers down and that once clothed cock was now on full display. all hard, throbbing over his heavy and full balls ready to pump your womb full of his cum. And the cherry on top was the nice happy trail he had, trimmed but not too trimmed.

You whimpered and clenched your still sore thighs together while pulling your bra off and shamefully covering your tits with your hands, making them look even better pressed up against you "What are you doing? I've seen 'em before" he chuckled and grabbed your hands to pin them down by your sides, exposing your pretty and hard nipples to him as they bounced on impact.

"There they are.." he slowly let go of your hand and slid the surprisingly soft skin of his finger tips down your arm until he got to your collar bones and then finally to your soft tits, causing jason to groan out a low and erotic "fuck.."

you whimpered pathetically and bit your bottom lip "whimpering over this?" He softly laughed "pathetic.." he said, but he found it cute, he loved your little noises.

"What if I.." he paused and barely touched your hardened bud "do this?" Before pinching and twisting it a bit. Your back arched off the mattress and into his touch "you really are a fuckin' sight aren't you?" You shook your head and teared up again "awe..my little crybaby.." he cooed and kissed your tear stained cheek "you want my cock, don't you?"

He asked bluntly and you shyly nodded, but Jay just grabbed your face again with his big hand "I need your big girl words, I know you can use 'em" his voice was less gruff and demanding now, it was sweet like honey..

You swallowed hard due to your dry throat, "y-yes.." you mumbled and Jason slid the wet head of his cock up and down your slick and sticky folds, making you think he was gonna give you what you want. But after a dew strokes you noticed he wanted you to beg more, Jason's eyes kept staring you down, like a predator stalking it's prey. Jason was dangerous in more ways than one.

You began to mewl and paw at his strong shoulders that could hold your weight easily, even if you are a bit heavier. "You're moanin' a lot right now, are you okay?" Jason faux pouted "you need something?"

You did. God you did..and the knew that, of course.

"Your cock! Please..jason—ahh.." you tried to form a coherent sentance but it was so damn hard with his cock bumping your clit and occasionally circling it, it was driving you crazy. If he kept this up he'd have to send your ass to arkham.

"Hm? What about my cock, baby?" He huffed, you felt his cock throbb against you, he was loving this even more than you. He loved the way he could make you submit to him with just a look, and have you go airheaded. Thinking of nothing else but him and his cock.

You whimpered desperately, almost starting to cry again "Jason!! I need it, f-fuck me, sir! P-please—" you saw Jason's Adam's apple Bob as he swallowed and then grinned down at you "shit, baby, that's all you had to say.." he chuckled and slid his cock down from your clit to your clenching hole "but you gotta let me in, sweetheart.."

He swiped some of your hair out of the way and whispered to you in that sweet tone again "stop clenchin', open up.." you took a deep breath and tried your best to let him in. Jason couldn't stop looking at you, he was still thinking about you telling him how you love him, he wanted to hear it again. But that side was fighting with the side that just wanted to fuck you dumb, dumb and dumber.

The second he finally slipped the head of his cock inside had him breathing so heavy, he felt you many times before, but goddamn. The first seconds of sliding in were the best seconds of his life.

Jason made sure to let you feel every inch, curve and vein of his pretty cock inside your tight and sensitive pussy until that soft batch of hair above his cock brushes against your clit and Jay was pulling your legs up to get even deeper, cock head pressed snugly against your cervix.

He was huffing and grunting at the feel of your soft and warm cunt gripping him like a fist, his eyes were rolling back as he slowly and sensually rolled his hips into you. Your hands went immediately to his back and scratching it softly, forcing him to groan even louder.

his cock felt so good and hard. He was making you feel so full, so complete. If he was to pull out you would literally cry and forget how to act like a normal adult woman. "j-jay..please don't sto—" you gasped as his cock rubbed that sweet and special spot inside you "right there—nghh!..r-right there, baby.." you moaned desperately, clawing at his shoulder blades.

Jason softly pressed his forhead into the sheets, next to your neck before kissing it softly "right here?" He asked as he deviously thrusted up into the exact spot, having you suddenly scream out in pleasure. You slapped your hand over your mouth embarrassed but Jason was quick to grab it to push it onto the sheets again. "No, no, no..don't hide it.." he paused and kissed your plush and wet cheek again "please, I wanna hear you.."

Your whimper got turned into a high pitched moan once jason suddenly started to roughly rutt into you "F-fuck!!" You cursed with the same high pitch. Words couldn't describe how utterly good he felt, its like his cock was made for you, like he was made for you..

You reached up and put your shaky hands on the sides of his scarred cheek, as you softly ran your thumb over the 'j' carved into his pretty skin. You knew he hated this scar more than the other ones, due to the bigger tragedy and torture behind it. You made him look at you, he looked just like a hurt puppy like this..anytime you would get him into his feelings, his big bad facade just dropped, whether he wanted it to or not. "It could stand for Jason.." you choked out. Your dumb Remark made him laugh as he slowed down on fucking you and returning to the sensual hip rolling "yeah?" He stroked his thumb over your cheek, you nodded "either way, I think it still makes you look beautiful." You smiled putting your hands on the back of his neck and pulling him down to kiss him.

You loved Jason, you really really did.

As you two kissed, the kiss slowly went from sweet and loving to animalistic and just horny. And with his thrusts to match he sped up and pounded into you, head knocking against your cervix and that spot that made your toes curl.

Jason's grip on your thighs will definitely leave marks tomorrow, but you don't mind it, you like seeing the pretty marks he left the next morning.

You were moaning and whimpering into Jason's mouth as his and your tongue were gliding against one another in such need, it was soessy to the point of spit dribbling out from your mouth and tongues slipping out once in a while.

Feeling you moan into his mouth just made jason more feral, he was slamming his cock into your poor little pussy so hard that you were already about to cum. You grabbed onto his shoulders to push Jason a little bit away from you to break that wet and messy kiss. jason almost fucking came with how pretty you looked right now; eyes puffy, cheeks and ears all hot and your big and plump lips wet from the kiss. He felt his cock throb inside you, and he was sure you felt it too with the little whimper you let out and the way your thighs clenched just a little bit

"J-jason! 'M bout to cum! I'm gonna cum—" jason shit you right up by kissing you again and fucking you even faster, the loud sounds of wet skin on skin slapping was obscene.

He broke the kiss for just a second to whisper "it's okay baby, you can cum. Cum for me, baby.." you locked your legs around his waist and continued to press him against you like you were scared he would leave. But he won't, he'll probably stay with you until he dies...and then come back again to be with you again.

Your nails clawed at his back as you desperately huffed for air and moaned more into the kiss, you felt the knot in your tummy being pulled tight until it ultimately snapped and you felt that bolt of electricity again, this time way, way harder. You broke the kiss and threw your head back while mewling and screaming, you looked so damn cute when you lost it and creamed on his cock.

Jason bit down hard on his bottom lip to not let any sounds out while he chased his high, all he needed for that was your pussy already dripping around him and you laying on his bed, grabbing at the sheets while he fucked you so hard your tits were bouncing like crazy.

"Fuck baby, look so pretty when you cum.." he clenched his jaw a little and groaned when you clenched around him at the praise. Jason's eyes fell to where you two were connected and started to rub over your puffy clit "do it again, I need to see it again" he moaned and grabbed onto your soft tummy "gonna make you fuckin' pregnant, yeah? Gonna fill you up so good.." he paused to just moan and grunt at the thought of you being pregnant.

"Fuck.." he mumbled, almost incoherent and choked, "gonna look so fuckin' pretty for me, won't ya?"

You nodded and immediately threw your head back to let your mouth fall into an 'o' as you came once again, making an even bigger mess on his cock.

He felt his drip over his balls and just gripped your tummy tighter "fuck—'m gonna cum, baby..gonna cum real deep inside you" right after he promised that he folded your legs back onto your chest and fucked faster and harder into your spent cunt.

He was huffing and moaning when you felt his huge cock throb and twitch inside of you, he was hitting so deep again that your eyes rolled back and bit your bottom lip, you wanted to cum again. "B-baby! Gonna cum—nghh! Gonna cum again!" Jason just grinned at your struggled moans and kissed you again "'m gonna cum too, baby..let's cum together, yeah?" He offered while grabbing onto your hands and then pressing his forhead against yours.

You both moaned louder and tensed your bodies more until jason came deep inside you, his thrusting became sloppy and hitched as your pussy began to milk his cock, draining every drop of cum from his balls as your orgasm hit you.

--

You and Jason just laid there for about 5 minutes, just him holding you against his chest and your little hands on the width of his now marked back. "Hey..uh.." Jason began, making you look up at him with those damn puppy dog eyes "I don't.. I don't know why I said those awful things..I'm..I'm really sorry" he mumbled, still thinking that you would leave him like everyone else "baby.." you started, and he interrupted you before you could reject his apology "I love you." He said in a slight panicked tone.

Your eyes widened, you never thought you would hear him say that..but here he was, surprising you again.

"I know that this situation you're in is awful, and that I am awful..but just know that..i love you and would do anything to protect you..." Jason said in a slightly cracked voice as he grabbed your hand and kissed it a few times before just pressing it onto his cheek.

You put both your hands onto the sides of his face "I love you too, baby.." you kissed him softly, and you felt his breath hitch at the softness, yeah he kissed you before..but not like this. "I won't leave you..I love you, Jason.. "

Jason stared at you for just a few seconds and saw how genuine your smile was, and he felt tears run down his face, he just nervously laughed it off and wiped them away "it's okay..okay?" You asked him with a small kiss onto his scar.

He nodded and placed his hands on your waist, felling your soft and smooth skin "okay.."

Tagging : @spaceace5834 @winterbimbwo

[reelovesfictionalmen]

An Eternity Together Vampire!John Price x f!reader

My first dance with kink/spooktober. Smut will be under the cut! Also reader is in her mid 30's. Sorry kiddos.

Cream-Pie and Vampire

You had known John was a vampire from his files in the military, you were just a human who took care of the Armory and requisitions. You met with him regularly supplying his gear. Eventually he had asked you out and now 12 years later the two of you were stronger than ever. The problem with dating a vampire as a human is that you age and your partner does not. As you entered your mid 30's, this was something the two of you discussed at length and had decided that you marry each other. On your wedding night he would turn you during the throes of passion of your first time making love as husband and wife.

So here the two of you were in your wedding finery retiring to the hotel for your wedding night. You both were nervous, John more so, but he was good at hiding it. He knew turning you would not fail but at the same time there was a slight nagging thought in the back of his head that worried it would fail and he would lose you forever, long before he would have if you died of old age.

Once you both entered your room the two of you stood there awkwardly for a few moments, it was very unlike the two of you. You steeled yourself, stepping close to him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling his chest. His arms quickly came around you and held you tight to him, planting a kiss to your forehead before pulling back slightly and grinning wildly down at you, the points of his fangs showing "Hello Mrs Price" he purred. You leaned up and kissed him softly "Hello Husband" you murmured against his lips.

The soft kisses soon turned heated, needy and desperate. You ran your hands up his chest and pushed at his suit jacket to signal you wanted him to take it off. He pulled away from you slightly flinging off his suit jacket, taking off his tie and pulling his dress shirt open and off with the buttons flying across the room. John fixed you with another toothy grin "Lets get you out of that dress, my love" gently turning you around, pulling the zipper down and then pushing the straps off your shoulders causing your dress to fall to the ground. Turning you to face him again he put his hands on your waist, stroking your sides before pressing kisses all over your face "I cant wait to spend the rest of eternity with you, Sweetheart. I never knew love before you and imagining myself spending my immortal life without you now seems worse than all the torture in the world" You took his face in your hands and kissed him deeply, running your tongue against his lips seeking entry, once granted you ran your tongue across his fangs and grinned "Well we had better get working on that, hmm?" With speed you unhooked your pretty lace bra, kicked off your heels and rid yourself of your panties before running to the bed, jumping on it, rolling on your back and sitting up smiling at him and his surprised face. "Come make me yours forever, John. Make love to me as your wife and make me like you" you beckoned with a hand stretched out to him. John let out a predatory growl that was far from human, toeing off his fancy shoes and essentially tearing his pants and tighty whities off his body.

He stalked towards you like a predator before standing in front of you and stroking your face "Lay back for me, My Love. I need you to cum on my face and stretch you open before we start. I don't want to rush this, we have all night" Laying back on the bed with your legs handing off the edge, you gingerly opened your legs for him, showing your already damp center of curls to him. You had wanted to shave bare down there but John for some reason liked when you had a bush. John kneeled at the edge of the bed, hooking arms around your hips and pulled you into his face. John took a deep breath against your center and groaned at your sweet scent. His heightened vampire senses thrummed at the heady scent, he dove in, licking a stripe between your lips and pressing his tongue and face in deeper to lap at your entrance where your wetness was oozing from. You moaned softly and relaxed bonelessly against the bed with your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of your beloved feasting on you. Your bonelessness only lasted so long as John moved a hand down from your hip to start circling and flicking your clit in quick motions. Your body jolted and you cried out John's name but he let out a beastly growl, pressing you back down with the hand he had been using on your clit before resuming his fast circling and flicking of your clit. It didn't take you long to cum and John had no intentions of slowing down, he was starved for you. The fact he was now married to you and was about to turn you made him feel a primal surge he had not felt before. He moved his mouth from your entrance to your clit, sucking on it hard, flicking it with his tongue, before he could move his hand down to start fingering you you had already cum again. You were pulling at his hair and begging him to slow down. Looking up at you and your teary eyes he released your clit and murmured an apology and started to finger you slowly. As your body relaxed he added another finger and then another until 3 of his thick fingers were knuckle deep inside you. He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a reserved speed until you came around his fingers. John pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean and rising to his feet. His hard cock bobbed in the air as he stood before you. "Move up the bed, Sweetheart" asked as he climbed onto the bed and crawled on top of you, caging you in with his arms and knees on either side of you.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, John had never been so intense with your love making before, he held a glint in his eyes that was befitting to his vampire nature. It should have scared you but it honestly turned you on more than anything. Now you were here under him, his cock leaking precum on your stomach and him staring down at you and licking his lips like you are the finest meal he has ever seen. Wrapping your arms around his neck you pulled him down and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips, both of you groaning into the kiss. "Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want me to turn you? Theres no going back from this" He asked as he brushed strands of hair stuck to your sweat from your forehead. His heart thumped in his chest with nerves. "John, Sweetheart. We've been together 12 years. I cant imagine a future without you, I want to stay by your side for as long as you will have me and more. Please." you stroked his cheeks and kissed him again. To make sure your point was driven home, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him into you. John grunted as his hips fell into you, then chuckling and kissing you again.

Even though he had stretched you out before hand, when he pressed himself into you it was a stretch as always. Once hilted inside you he started to move, going slowly at first, drawing out completely before pressing back in. The moans he drew from you and his own moans spurred you both into a feverish pace, it wasn't long before you came on his cock and became even wetter around his cock. "'m not going to last much longer, Love. When I put my wrist to your lips, drink deep" He made sure to look you in the eyes and get your confirmation, a moan and a nod. John rolled his hips in a way that caught your g-spot with every thrust he could feel himself nearing his peak and knew you would too. He bit the vein on his wrist, pressing it to your mouth as he pounded into you hard. He felt you drink from him, he bit your neck and drank deeply from you. The sensations causing you both to erupt into an orgasm that felt like your body was aflame. John filled you with more seed than he knew he even had. His balls hurt from being so empty. The vampiric poison in his blood started to work, your body started to seize, you struggled to breathe. He pulled out of you, his cum dripping out of you all over the bed and his thighs as he cradled you in your arms as your human life came to an end. He laid you both down on your sides and held you tightly to him, stroking your hair, pressing kisses all over your face. Your body soon started to grow cold in his arms, your body was changing inside, you were becoming like him. After a few hours, where he kept you in his arms he heard your heart restart again. He whispered praises to you while stroking your body, your arms, your hair, pressing kisses everywhere he could reach.

With a gasp you regained consciousness, flailed in panic before being soothed by John. "It.. Did it work?" you asked staring up at him "It worked, My Love. How do you feel?" he offered smiling down at you with his signature smile, his fangs poking past his lips. "I feel.. I can feel, hear, smell.. so much. It's.." you shuddered feeling overwhelmed john stroked your head, pressing his lips to your forehead "mmm I know, Love. I'll teach you to get control of it all. Don't you worry" you reached between your legs and felt around, feeling the mess and the huge load he left inside you "Hey, can we have kids?" you asked "We can, but theres a lot of things that have to be done and the timing has to be right. We can focus on little kidlings in time. We have eternity, remember?" he sighed happily, drawing you back closer into his arms where the two of you remained cuddled up all night while you discussed anything and everything.

It was a wonderful wedding night and the beginning of a long long long life together.

wefjkwfejkwef I've never taken on a writing challenge before. I cant say I'll manage every day nor that they will all be COD characters. But I hope you guys like them. I worked hard on this one.

Tomorrow will be Friday the 13th and Against a Wall. Dunno who with yet lol.

[badbatchsprincess]

Heated ~ pt.11

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 

Warnings: We got some action, some canon typical violence, and a little angst. Shits about to get wild from here on out hold onto your pants. Hunter's growing breeding kink and Crosshair's riffle.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─��── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

"We’re literally never going to get shore leave," Wrecker groaned, picking up Gonky and putting the battery droid into the Marauder. It seemed like the repairmen were able to get all new parts installed overnight, leaving the Marauder in pristine condition.

"They didn’t tell you why we needed to go to Kamino?" Crosshair asked, busy reloading the armory with a new crate of weapons.

"No," Echo shook his head.

"Why do I need to come to Kamino?" You chirped, sipping on your to-go cup of caff and breakfast.

"Your presence was requested," Echo shrugged.

"I didn’t even think your creators knew about me," you pondered.

"It is strange," Tech responded from the cockpit. "They don’t usually like civilians in Tipoca City."

"Do you think it’s something bad?" You took a bite of your egg sandwich.

"There is no indication of such things, but who is to know really," Tech mused, adjusting the settings on the console to his liking.

"Let’s get a move on," Hunter ordered. "The faster we get there, the faster we can get back."

"Sounds good to me!" You slid off the crate and grabbed your brand new medic pack, double-checking all your requested supplies were in there, along with the backup supply in the ship’s storage.

You felt Tech start up the engines and ran to the front to strap in.

It wasn’t long before the Marauder was up in the air and zooming through hyperspace. It would be a few hours before you entered Kamino airspace, so you decided to busy yourself and study the way Crosshair cleaned Firepuncher.

Crosshair seemed to be enjoying your attention, making sure to show you all the nooks and crannies that are usually missed. He even let you take the little brush with the cleaning solution and do a few pieces yourself.

"Atta girl," he praised as you followed his instructions to a T.

You smiled, handing him back the tools. He reassembled the weapon, giving it one last pass with the cleansing cloth before oiling the moving mechanisms. He pulled out a hand wipe, cleaning the oil and blaster residue off his own fingers, before taking your hands and cleaning yours. He tossed away the dirtied wipe before taking your chin in his hands, plucking his toothpick from his lip, and tilting your face up to meet his. He bent down to press a loving kiss to your lips, making your cheeks heat.

He popped the pick back between his teeth and took Firepuncher with him to the cockpit. You shamelessly watched the lithe sniper saunter out of the room.

"He’s only like that with you," Hunter smirked at you.

"I doubt that," you sighed, cleaning up the dining table with a damp towel.

"I’m serious," he crossed his arms. "You’re good for him."

You rolled your eyes. "Hardly."

"He let you clean Firepuncher," Hunter smiled. "Safe to say you’re the only one he’s ever let do that."

"I’ll keep that in mind," you said, putting the rag into the dirty hamper.

"He’s never let anyone get close to him. I mean, none of us have really. We didn’t exactly have an easy upbringing," Hunter shared, trying to open up a bit more, but it was obvious it had hurt him too. "Crosshair is the youngest. He struggled the most with all the ostracization. I think it’s what made him so cold and severe, but he seems to have taken a liking to you. I noticed the way he changed slightly when you joined. Like how he started bringing you things when we were out."

"So he was the one leaving them on my cot?" You smiled, thinking back to all of the little trinkets, stones, or sweets.

"You’re getting through to him," Hunter said, standing up and walking over to you. "It’s more than we ever could have."

"He’s your brother," you sighed, looking down at Hunter’s lips.

“Exactly.” He whispered pressing forwards until your lips met. You purred into Hunter’s mouth feeling him bring one hand up to support your cheek as he kissed you passionately. He then deepened the kiss urging you to open your mouth slightly for his tongue to explore. You too explored, you wanted to memorize everything Hunter liked, well really what each alpha liked, but you decided you’d start with Hunter. You already knew Tech and Crosshair liked when you’d brat a little and that would end up in your submission to them. Hunter however, seemed a lot more like Wrecker in that he was mainly interested in your pleasure… but you were determined. 

You ran your hands to the nape of his neck and massaged there feeling him moan into your mouth. Okay, nape, check. You smiled tugging him further down do you were laid out on the table with your legs wrapped around his waist while he bent over pinning you to the surface. 

He surged forwards pushing his cod piece into your clothed core. You whined and squirmed against him feeling yourself get turned on by the weight at your apex. 

You moved your hand from his name to around the front of his neck giving it an experimental squeeze. He gave you a soft warning growl which made you immediately continue your journey south. Okay no choking for him. 

You hand your hands over his chest plate wishing you could feel the hard planes of his chest. 

Hunter pulled back looking down at you with a suspicious smirk, “What are you going little one?”

You tried catching your breath and smiled back, “Nothing.”

“Hmm.” He eyed you before diving back in to capture your lips. When you leaned up to reciprocate, he snatched up your neck and slammed you back down to the table making your eyes widen in surprise. He squeezed. Not hard enough to hurt you but just enough that it made your stomach flip and your heart race… maybe he was more dominant than you gave the Sargent credit for.

“Are you… studying me?” He gave you a wolfish grin. 

You swallowed looking up into his amber eyes, “Maybe…” 

He grinned keeping you pinned to the table. 

“Mesh’la…” He leaned down to lick at your gland under his thumb. You whined grinding down on his codpiece. He stood back up rubbing small circles into the gland making you writhe on the table, “You’re adorable little ‘mega.” 

You felt yourself getting wetter by the second, absolutely destroying your panties. Maker you wanted him so badly. 

“J-just want to know how to make you feel good.” You whimpered trying to get some kind of release for the tension thrumming through your entire system. 

He sighed a laugh leaning over you again giving you some mercy by grinding into you. You moaned. Between the rubbing between your thighs and the stimulation to your mating gland, you were on the edge of cumming. 

“Such a perfect little omega aren’t you?” He hummed watching you start to sweat. He could smell your slick and hear the way your heart hammered in your chest and he knew you were being edged, “Always so concerned with your alphas.” 

You cried out grabbing at the wrist around your neck and using the heel of your boots to force him even closer to you. He chuckled at your attempts to buck harder into him. 

“Do you want to cum pip?” He drawled. 

“Yes sir.” You whimpered desperate for this torture to end. 

“Well because you’ve been such a good girl,” He used his free hand to unbutton your pants and slide them inside towards your pulsing core. You nearly screamed when he finally started to rub tantalizing little circles into your aching clit. 

“Cum omega.” He commanded. 

You gasped feeling the sudden rush of your orgasm take over you. You arched up off the table pressing into him further. He only stopped stimulating your gland when you had finally worked through your orgasm. 

He smiled down as he released your neck and buttoned up your pants. 

“You feeling good, makes me feel good ‘mega.” He pushed his forehead into yours, “But if you want me to be more dominant like my brothers then we can do that too.” 

You hummed, “I only want what you want Hunter, whatever feels right.” 

He flashed his teeth at you again, growling, “What feels right… what feels right is me sinking my teeth right here little one.” He thumbed your glad again making you shudder, “as much as I want to totally loose myself, I know I can’t… You make me feel feral Ad’ika. You scent, it drives me wild.” 

You starred up at him through your heavy eyes feeling your heart start to beat quickly again. 

“You want to mate me Hunter?” You whispered seductively tilting your neck back so he could grip you again. 

You watched his eyes dilate at your words, “fuck mesh’la.” He sighed and shook his head trying to snap himself out of it, “I want to pup you.” He admitted and pressed his other hand to your abdomen, “Fucking Layla got me thinking about it.” He massaged your belly imagining what you’d look like swollen with his pups. 

You studied him… he seems to have quite the breeding kink, a mischievous smile crept up onto your lip, “boy or girl Hunter?” 

“Hmm?” He looked up from your belly into your heady eyes. 

“Boy or girl?” You repeated. 

“Girl… definitely a girl.” He kissed you pressing you back down to the table. 

“Is that why your hindbrain cut out my implant?” You giggled and squirmed under him, “You want to knock me up?”

“M’guess so.” He mumbled nuzzling your gland. 

You just sighed in contentment enjoying the way he mouthed at your shoulder keeping a firm grip on your side. 

“Better keep those fangs to yourself Hunter.” Tech groused passing by data pad in hand. 

Serge sighed sitting up finally snapping out of the trance you had put him in. 

“Sharing is caring.” Crosshair stepped into the hallway to tease his older brother. 

“You’re gonna make him territorial.” You lulled your head to the side to look at the sniper. 

Crosshair chuckled, “He’s always been territorial.” 

“As are you.” Tech stepped into the doorway. 

“Byproduct of being an alpha.” Crosshair flashed a fangy smile at you. You giggled sitting up making Hunter stand. 

“I’m not territorial.” Tech looked up from his search. 

You scoffed, “Oh yes you are.” 

“What?” He was confused, “When have I displayed territorial tendencies.” 

“When I first saw the 501st after joining you.” You pushed Hunter back so you could saunter over to Tech, “In 79’s, I saw that look in your eye when I danced with regs, and then when I almost drowned, you got your punches in. Don’t think I didn’t see that.” You smirked poking him in the chest plate. 

“Is that considered territorial?” He looked up at his brothers. 

“Sounds about right.” Hunter nodded. Crosshair agreed. 

You smirked and crossed your arms, “Then you and Cross marked me up on Mimban. Had those women thinking I was in trouble.” 

He widened his eyes realizing you were right. 

“It would seem I do display territorial behavior.” He nodded, “I must look into this.” He walked off typing furiously into his data pad. 

You just shook your head laughing and walked back to lean on the table. 

“How much longer to Kamino?” Hunter asked Crosshair. 

“Half an hour.” 

“Alright, let’s get ready to doc.” Hunter ushered the two of you out and into the cockpit. 

~~~

"Where are you taking me?" you asked the Kaminoan.

"We need your assistance in the medical wing. You're the only one with experience regarding the spice chemical compounds," she replied.

You glanced at Hunter, who gave you an approving nod. Swallowing nervously, you agreed to follow the female alien, feeling a little uneasy about leaving your pack with this unfamiliar woman. Looking back, you noticed they were still watching you as you disappeared down the hallway.

"What is your name?" the Kaminoan asked.

"Y/N Y/L/N," you responded, clutching the straps of your med pack, feeling a little like you were back in school.

All around you, shinies and cadets marched in perfect lines. Every few clones would break their focus to peer at you. You ignored them, following behind the Kaminoan called Nala Se.

As you neared the medical wing, you noticed a group of pacing soldiers in blue.

"Fives?" you called out to him. He looked at you, confused at first, before walking over to you.

"CT-5555," Nala Se nodded.

He nodded back before embracing you. You hugged him back, stepping up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Layla got your memo. Echo and I read it."

"Did Layla send you?" he whispered back before standing upright, "It’s been so long, kid. How are you doing?"

You scrunched your brow in confusion for a second before realizing he was prompting you to play along. "I’m doing fine. How’s Rex?"

"Eh, you know... as good as he was after Umbara," Fives said, sounding too cheerful for referring to THE Umbara siege. You nodded, understanding that Rex and the boys weren’t doing well and that there was some sort of conspiracy at play.

You double-tapped your arm, signaling a "no" in reference to his first question. "Oh, that’s great. I’ll have to spend some time with him when we’re back on rotation."

He flashed you a sign he and the boys used to let you know to stay quiet in tough situations. "I know he’ll love that. You were always his favorite civ."

"Hah," you smiled, giving another signal that you understood the mission. "Well, let the others know I’m sending my love."

"Of course, Tiny," he embraced you again and whispered, "Don’t trust the Kaminoans," before pulling back with a charming smile.

You smiled too, giving his arm a squeeze.

Nala Se continued on, and you followed after her, giving Fives one more glance before turning left and disappearing into the medical facility.

"Did you serve under CT-7567?" Nala Se asked while approaching her desk.

"Yes. I was a medic for the 501st before the 99’s," you replied, using your military-trained voice.

"They seem to like you," she remarked.

You didn’t know if she was trying to pry information out of you. The way she spoke seemed to indicate so. "I’m the only one not giving them orders and fixing their injuries. The position tends to make friends."

"Friends," she repeated, picking up her data pad. "After the incident on Crait, we’ve been trying to ascertain a sample of the same compound used. I was wondering if you could give me a recount of the events. Most of our clones have been altered to withstand almost all stressors, diseases, and injury. As I’m sure you’re well aware, they’re stronger than most natural-born humans. This is their design. It is a concern of ours to have this weakness in them. We wish to alter our work for future cloning and perhaps even develop a cure for the battlefield."

You sighed before crossing your arms and bringing back the information to the forefront of your mind. "Well, I didn’t know what happened until it was too late. Hu-uhh-CT-9901 later recounted the events that led to the dosing. There was already a Republic team researching the findings based on suspicious reconnaissance information. They went missing, and my unit went to retrieve them and their findings. I rarely leave the ship, so one second everything is fine, then the next…” You swallowed, trying to find the words to appropriately explain what occurred. “CT-9901 had incapacitated CT-1409 while trying to get to me. The drug affected his alpha instincts and rendered him feral. I had the implant, but due to his enhanced scent, he could still pick up on my pheromones, and then it was a struggle until I shot him. It was the only thing that was going to stop him. The others kept him tied up in the brig until it was all out of his system. It took almost a day."

"In the report, it said he had cut out your implant," Nala Se read through it.

"That is correct."

"Then you were able to get medical assistance aboard General Skywalker’s vessel."

"That is correct."

"Did CT-9901 have any lingering effects?" she asked.

"Not that I’m aware of," you shook your head.

"It’s not often we have a human female omega in this facility. Is it alright if I take some blood samples for testing purposes?"

You nodded, "Sure."

She sat you down on a chair before grabbing the injector site. She cleaned your arm before pressing the machine to your skin.

She took the samples and placed them in the care of a medic droid.

"Is there anything else I can assist with?" you asked, standing up and pressing a bandage to the small wound.

"Yes, actually. We had a clone recently turn on a Jedi and unfortunately kill her. We’re suspecting it was caused by this bioweapon altering his behavior."

You steeled the expression that was begging to come out on your face. You kept a neutral expression, but deep down, you knew it was deeper than this. The drug may make alphas become feral, but to kill a Jedi, that wasn’t adding up.

"He killed a Jedi?" you clarified.

"Yes," Nala Se wasn’t giving any more information.

Was that why she was asking about Hunter cutting you? You knew you were going to have to really guard your words from here on out.

She walked you over to the other side of her office before opening a door out onto a viewing platform. Below, seemed to be the training facilities that the clones had told you about from their teen years.

Down below, there was a single clone standing there and a medical droid. You watched the droid inject a crimson substance into the clone. He started to growl as the spice entered his system. You watched in abject horror as they experimented cruelly on this poor man. You bit your tongue, however. If Fives was right, you were being watched too, and you had to be so careful.

The man writhed and howled as he slipped into the hindbrain. His face contorted into something aggressive and frightening. Then the same droid that took your blood sample hovered down toward one of the barricades out of view of the clone, it dripped your blood onto the sterile surface, and suddenly the man whipped his head up like Hunter had. He made a direct beeline for your scent.

He was making soft cooing noises trying to lure out the omega he thought was there. When he turned the corner and found nothing but blood, he roared, touching the drop and bringing it to his nose. Then, like out of one of Kix’s favorite horror movies, the affected clone zeroed in on you and Nala Se on the viewing platform like Hunter when he’s tracking. He snarled and started running toward you, determined to climb up there.

Nala Se gave the order to have him sedated, and you watched the fighting clone collapse into stillness. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and looked to the Kaminoan.

"Was the Jedi an omega?" you deadpanned, still a little shocked from the demonstration.

Nala Se hesitated, “No.”

You nodded.

"We have requested you and your unit to assist us in finding more information about the origins of this research," she walked you out of the lab and back into the hallway where Fives had been, "Your group leader has already been briefed, but we wish to have you involved as you were there from the genesis of this issue."

"I will do my best," you swallowed nervously. You were hoping none of you would have to go near this ever again, but it seems it’s becoming the main focus of the GAR whether you like it or not.

~~~

When you entered the 99’s barracks, you were first hit with the smell. Ugh… unkempt alpha… you scrunched your nose and stepped inside.

"Are you okay?" Hunter asked, walking up to you, seeing the bandage.

"Yeah, they just wanted my blood," you brushed him off.

"What for?" Echo asked.

You shuffled nervously, "T-they’re running tests… on regs. It was horrible." You bit back tears, "They dosed a shiny and lured him around with my blood to see how feral he’d become. Right before he decided to come after me, they sedated him and took him away."

"They used you as bait?" Crosshair growled, plucking the pick from his mouth.

"No… I mean not really. Just my blood sample," you tried to console him.

"Why are they doing that?" Hunter asked.

"Nala Se said they’re trying to develop a cure for the drug. They wanted my blood since there's no omegas around here."

"That’s what they wanted you for?" Wrecker wondered.

"She wanted me to go over Crait again. I don’t know why. She wanted to know the specifics of Hunter cutting out my implant. She seemed interested."

"Interested?" Tech pondered, and you nodded, "Did she say anything else?"

"Just that we’re supposed to be going on another mission? She said you already were briefed," you looked to Hunter.

He reached a hand out to cup your cheek when the door whooshed open, and Fives came running inside. Hunter immediately retreated his hand to glare at the reg.

"Fives?" you quirked your head, "What are you doing here?"

"I tried finding you after I saw you, but Nala Se was alone. I knew you’d be here," he caught his breath.

"What’s wrong?" you asked, stepping toward him, intending a hand on his shoulder. You heard Crosshair make a warning growl, but you just threw him a look.

"I needed to talk to you without them watching."

"Okay," you nodded, pulling out a stool for him to sit on.

"Is this about Tup?" Echo asked, coming closer to sit.

"Yeah," Fives nodded, "Something is going on around here."

"Nala Se said he was drugged with the spice," you sat on the table, pushing Tech’s old scribbles to the side.

Fives shook his head, "No, he wasn’t drugged."

You cringed, "Wait so he killed the Jedi on his own?"

"Who killed a Jedi?" Hunter squawked.

"Tup," Echo shook his head.

"Why could a clone kill a Jedi? It’s literally impossible for us to even fathom that," Tech was confused. It goes against all of their programming.

"Were you there?" you asked.

Fives nodded, "We all were. I insisted I come back with him, he’s my brother ya know? Rex is distraught and Anakin doesn’t understand what the hell is going on. But I knew something was off when the Kaminoans started insisting it was the spice. Kix literally tested him for any substances and he cleared the test. Plus, if that was the case we’d all be rutting like crazy right now." He shook his head, "I don’t trust the Kaminoans, they’re hiding something."

"So what are you saying you think it is?" Tech asked.

"Kix thinks it’s stress-related," Fives shrugged.

"That’s not possible, that part of our brain was altered to not experience stress," Tech shook his head.

You scoffed, what a dream.

“That’s what Rex said,” Fives replied.

“Well, where is Tup now?” you asked.

“Sedated in one of the medical wards.”

“Sedated?”

"Yeah, he wouldn’t shut up about following orders or something like that," Fives shrugged. "Shaak Ti thinks he’s been brainwashed by seppies."

“Is that a possibility?” Hunter asked. "No one’s ever heard of that before."

“No, he was with us the entire time. He just snapped all of a sudden,” Fives sounded worried.

You put your hand on his, trying to comfort him. He just smiled sadly and sighed, “Kix says hi, by the way.”

“Is he here?” You asked, perking up.

“Yeah, but they have him working. A batch of shinies got pretty banged up on their first dispatch.”

“Typical,” you laughed, thinking about the nearly thousand times you’ve had to patch up the 501st boys, especially in the early days.

“I heard some pretty crazy stuff about you all,” he looked around. “Did you guys really crash land on Mimban?”

“Now, how did you hear about that?” You laughed.

“I have my sources,” he jested.

“Any chance your source is 5’3 and wears mini skirts?” You smirked.

“Now, how could you have possibly guessed that?” He mimicked you.

“Layla!” Tech said, like it was trivia.

“You know Layla?” Fives scrunched his nose.

“We were all on Ani’s Venator for a week, Fives!” You shook your head.

“Oh yeah!” Fives laughed. “When Sarge here put you into heat!”

You deflated. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem,” he smiled.

“Layla baked us cookies!” Wrecker added.

“No! Tech and I made the cookies!” You pouted.

“Okay, fine, you made the cookies, but Layla was there,” Wrecker rolled his eyes.

“Ya’ll are hanging out without me, darlin’?” He playfully shoved you.

“Yup,” you smiled standing up, “And I found out Layla has a thing for ARC troopers.”

Fives scrunched his nose before turning to Echo, who looked smug.

“Like the good old days!” Five punched his batch mate Echo; just shoved him back playfully. “Cool place, by the way,” Fives waved around at the super messy barracks.

“Thanks,” the 99’s answered in unison.

Crosshair played with his toothpick. “Aren’t we supposed to be leaving?” Crosshair drawled, clearly bored with the reg.

“Oh yeah,” Hunter nodded, standing up again, “We’re leaving for Kaller.”

“Kaller?” Fives stood up, grabbing his helmet. “Kriff is on Kaller?”

“Apparently, the origin point of the spice compound,” Tech informed.

“Am I coming?” You asked Hunter.

“Yeah, we’re definitely not leaving you here,” Hunter replied.

Fives gave you a little suggestive look, which you just rolled your eyes at.

“Let’s go before Nala Se wants all my blood,” you grabbed your med pack, slinging the straps over your shoulders.

“She took what?” Fives grabbed you by the shoulders.

“She took my blood,” you looked over to Echo, then back to Fives.

“What for?” He squeezed you a bit.

“She was running tests on shinies and the spice. She wanted my blood to test the efficacy of their symptoms.”

“They used her as bait,” Crosshair corrected.

“How much did she take?” Fives asked.

You shrugged. “Two vials.”

“She asked for you specifically?” Fives was starting to sound nervous.

“Fives, you’re scaring me,” you whined.

Hunter stepped in, separating the two of you, keeping you tucked into his side. “What are you saying?”

“Have any of you noticed how different she smells?” He gestured to you.

You narrowed your eyes, looking around at the others.

“She doesn’t smell like any omega I’ve ever been around,” Fives crossed his arms.

“Is that a bad thing?” You asked quietly.

“No,” everyone said in unison.

“Why would the Kaminoans want Pip’s blood?” Tech asked.

“I don’t know,” Fives shrugged. “But Kaminoans don’t do anything without a purpose. She’s unique. For what reason, I don’t know. But I’m guessing it has something to do with this spice stuff.”

“All the more reason to get her far away from here,” Hunter said.

“I’m fine with that,” you were thrilled to get off this waterlogged planet. You looked to Fives. “Are you staying here?”

“I can’t let the others handle this on their own, Rex’s orders,” he shrugged. “As much as Kaller sounds like so much fun,” he was being sarcastic.

“We’ll catch up later, brother,” Echo clapped Fives on the shoulder before opening the door to the hallway.

“When you’re back on rotation, you owe me a night at 79’s!” Fives fitted his helmet back on and started off in the direction of the medical wing.

“Sounds like a plan!” Echo yelled after him.

“So, Kaller?” You asked, feeling a little trepidation.

“Shaak Ti informed us that the council needs us to infiltrate a secret base on Kaller to retrieve the research on this mystery drug. I know you’re probably worried about getting involved in this again, but I don’t know what else we can do,” Hunter sighed, knowing this topic was still sore for the both of you.

“It’s fine, Hunter,” you nodded, “My anxiety about this drug is nothing compared to the damage it does, which is far more important to stop.”

You got flashes back to that poor clone under its insidious influence. This had to be stopped.

“Pip obviously is going nowhere near that drug and risk getting exposed,” Tech asserted. The others agreed.

“But what about you guys?” You worried as you all made it to the docking bay. “What do we do if you get exposed?”

“We lock ourselves up in the brig,” Crosshair pointed out, “Just like we did with Hunter, until it wears out. The side effects are much worse for an omega than an alpha.”

You shivered, remembering the sharp pain of Hunter’s blade in your shoulder.

“Okay,” you acquiesced. It’s not like you could go against orders anyway. No matter how scared you might be.

“Kaller here we come!” Wrecker laughed.

~~~

“This planet is soooo… cold,” you sighed, shivering as the hatch opened. Tech had found a cave in the side of an icy mountain where he landed the Marauder, keeping it out of sight and out of the elements.

You ran back inside to grab the GAR-issued snow coat lined with nexu fur. You pulled it on and zipped it all the way up to your chin.

“How are you not cold?” You jumped up and down, trying to warm up.

“Genetics,” Tech leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Behave, alright?”

You chewed your lip. “If I feel like it.”

“Omega,” he warned, turning you around and pushing you into Crosshair. “Behave.”

You huffed before snuggling into the sniper. “You heard Tech. Be a good girl until we get back.”

“Okay,” you leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss him. He smiled, melding his lips with yours.

“Bye Pip!” Wrecker came over, shoving Crosshair away from you before picking you up and hugging you. “We’ll be back!”

“I know, big guy!” You smiled. “Please, be careful.” You were obviously worried.

“We’ll be okay,” Hunter collected you from his little brother. “Radio in every thirty minutes, even if we don’t respond.”

“I know! I know!” You rubbed your scent on his chest plate. “Just like always.”

“Bye, Tiny!” Echo yelled as he descended the steps.

“Bye!” You yelped.

You watched the boys leave and the hatch close, leaving you in stark silence. You locked the access door. It’s been so long since you had been totally alone without one of them staying back with you. You almost didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Checking your datapad time, you knew they had two hours to complete this mission before you were allowed to start worrying for real.

You wandered around the ship a bit, looking for something to clean or organize. Deciding you’d take a crack at the surplus supplies, you waltzed into the back of the ship where the brig was down below. You slid down the ladder, landing with a thud in the dark underbelly of the Marauder. This is where you kicked on the lights and decided to get to work sorting and organizing everything.

To make the time go by faster, you stole Crosshair’s datapad from his bunk drawer to play some of his rock music.

You’d checked in three times already, knowing you’d only have one more to go before they’d start making their way back. You had sorted through all of the surplus food, making sure to group the meals Layala had brought you guys by preference. You made sure to include everyone’s favorites along with little snack packs and dehydrated blue milk.

You were just about to start on the ammunition supply when you got beeped on your com.

“Havoc 6, come in,” Hunter’s voice startled you. You scrambled to turn down Crosshair’s music before radioing back.

“This is Havoc 6, Havoc 1, are you alright?” You asked, feeling your heart start to race and the hair stand up on your neck… something was wrong. You just knew it.

“We’re okay, but we found… a kid?” Hunter replied, “We got the research, we’re making our way back, there’s a change of plans.”

“A kid? What? Change of plans?” You stuttered into the com channel, “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see when we get there, get the ship warmed up,” Hunter cut the line, and you scrambled out of the brig and up into the main cabin before jogging into the cockpit. You entered Tech’s special code before being able to begin the ignition process.

Just as you got the engines primed, you heard them approach and opened the hatch door.

They came jogging inside, helmets still on. You were looking at them a bit perplexed when a smaller figure followed them inside behind Crosshair.

“A pup?” You rushed forward, unable to stop yourself, before taking the little kid into your hands, sniffing and checking him for injuries. “W-where did you find him?”

“Hey, lady!” He swatted at you, making you back up. He scowled, smoothing down his robes. That’s when you realized he was a Padawan… You suddenly stood up and looked at the boys, putting your hands on your hips.

“Sorry, kid,” Hunter chuckled, “She’s a fussy little omega.”

“You’re an omega?” He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Where is his master!?” You instantly jumped on your unit, “Did you steal a Padawan?”

“As funny as that would be, no… we didn’t steal him,” Echo shook his head, taking off his helmet, “He found us.”

You turned to look at the kid, “Are you lost?”

He scoffed, “No, I’m not lost. I was sent to find reinforcements.”

“How old are you?” You were shocked this child was being battle-tested already.

“14,” he replied.

Your eyes softened, “He’s just a baby!” You growled, looking to your unit.

They just shrugged, “Hey, it’s not our fault what the Jedi do with their littles,” Wrecker defended.

“I’m not little!” He squawked, “And we really need help, so are you going to help us or what?”

“What’s your name, kid?” Echo asked.

“Caleb. Caleb Dume.”

“Where’s your master?” Hunter asked, and the pup handed him the coordinates.

“Alright, let’s go,” Hunter decided, and you just stood there flabbergasted.

“Relax, ‘Mega,” Crosshair tried to help you come to terms with this, “He’s a Jedi, probably could kick all of our asses if he wanted to.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you sighed.

“He’s not your pup,” Crosshair reminded you, “It’s not your problem.”

You growled. Crosshair just smirked. You were fiercely protective, that was for certain.

You peeked your head around the sniper to look at Caleb, “Have you eaten anything, hun?”

“Stop mothering him!” Echo yelled from his seat.

“I can’t help it!” You shook your head before heading for your jump seat. Hunter eyed you.

“I’m alright, miss,” Caleb grabbed onto the side of the ship as Tech brought the Marauder up into the air.

You were not liking this situation. First the spice, and now the kid. Why can’t missions just go how they’re supposed to?

Tech expertly flew the ship not too far from where you were hidden in the mountains. He found a clearing just before all of the blaster fire in the distance.

As the ship touched down, you stood up to follow them, but they all turned around, pointing fingers at you, “Pip, stay on the ship.”

“Ugh! Fine!” You groused, going over to Tech’s seat, ignoring the itch to take care of the kid.

“Are all omegas like that?” Caleb asked, picking up his lightsaber from his belt.

“Pip’s extra mothering when it comes to pups,” Tech replied, adjusting his holovisor.

“Should have seen her on Ryloth…” Echo started telling Caleb the story when the hatch door closed, leaving you once again alone in the ship.

You let out a loud groan, spinning the pilot’s seat around. The primal need to make sure the kid was okay was eating you from the inside out. He was literally walking into a war zone. That goes against everything your instincts wanted.

“Don’t do it, Y/N,” you shook your head, spinning the chair again.

But when you slowed down the spin, you noticed Caleb had left behind his robe and something in you snapped.

The pup was going to be cold…

"Fuck this." You got up, snatching the robe and smashed the hatch opening. You knew your alphas were going to kill you, but you didn’t care. You could care after you knew the pup was okay. At least you grabbed the thigh holster and a spare pistol, strapping it to yourself before stomping down the steps and out into the snow-covered forest. As you neared the battlefield, you heard bullets flying and explosions in the distance. You went running, suddenly overwhelmed with instincts… you didn’t know why this was happening. This hadn’t ever happened to you before, not even with the little girl on Ryloth. Something was very, very wrong.

Your jog turned into a sprint as you dodged trees and jumped over fallen trunks.

Letting your omega instinct guide you, you appeared in the clearing, seeing the last of the droids being destroyed by the cunning skills of your unit.

"We got a problem," Crosshair’s voice rang out through their comms, "Pip left the ship."

"What?" Hunter whipped around, finding you wandering through the smoke, clearly looking for something in the literal middle of the battlefield.

"Kark," Echo cursed, "She’s looking for the kid."

"Omega…" Hunter growled into the com channel. You ignored him.

They started walking back over to you, looking angry as a pissed-off rancor as the smoke started to clear. Crosshair came sliding down the side of the icy hill, joining their little clique when you spun around, finding Caleb walking over towards you.

"Hey, Miss?" He gave you a kind smile.

"Hi," you said, looking around a bit dazed.

"Are you okay, miss?" He asked, walking up to you.

"Y-yeah, I just had to make sure you were okay," you shook your head, starting to come back to your senses.

"I’m okay," he nodded, "Thanks to your friends."

"You left this behind," you handed him the brown robe, which he happily took and put on, shaking off the chill in the air.

"Y/N!" Hunter’s roar cut through the war zone.

"Kark," you sighed, closing your eyes.

Caleb giggled, pulling up his hood.

"I gave you direct orders to stay on the ship!" Hunter was so mad, "Then you run out into a literal battlefield. You could have been killed!"

"I-I’m…" you struggled to get the words out as the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

Turning around, you saw the master Jedi step up out of her trench, only to ignite her saber as her captain turned on her.

"Master!" Caleb screeched, igniting his saber and running towards his master. You couldn’t help but run after the pup despite your alpha’s roars of disapproval. Caleb suddenly stopped, realizing that his master was outnumbered.

"Run, Caleb!" She screamed, taking the brunt of the fire.

You flung yourself over the pup just in time to dodge a plasma bullet. Caleb was reacting much faster than you. When he looked up to see the 99’s jogging towards you two guns in hand, he quickly grabbed onto your wrist and started dragging you into the woods with him, running for your lives.

"Caleb!" You yelped, running with him.

"They’ve turned!" He said, jumping over branches. He was much faster than you, but you tried your best to keep up, "The clones can’t be trusted."

"What?" You were gasping for air, starting to feel the fatigue.

"I can feel it," he said, weaving left, trying to throw anyone off your trail.

A plasma bullet went whizzing by your head before exploding into a nearby tree. You both were forced to halt your sprint in the crunchy snow.

"Maker Crosshair, you could have hit her!" Echo growled, knocking the sniper’s gun out of his hand.

"Stop running, kid!" Hunter called out to the two of you.

Caleb just stepped in front of you, igniting his saber, "Stay back!"

They stopped their approach. You were beyond confused.

Crosshair kept his weapon trained on the kid while the others tried their hardest not to come off as intimidating.

"It’s okay, Caleb," Hunter said, putting his gun away and keeping his hands up in the air, "We just want to help you."

Crosshair decided then he would take the shot. You watched in horror as the blue plasma blast soared through the air, and Caleb skillfully deflected it, sending it back into the trees. You screamed and grabbed the kid, curling your body around him on instinct. You knelt in the snow, shielding Caleb from your alphas.

You heard shouting, then you heard firepuncher go off again, but this time the blast missed wildly. You flinched at the sound of it exploding into nearby rocks. You cradled Caleb's head like a mother would, keeping him pressed to you safely.

When you dared to look behind you, you saw Hunter and Crosshair wrestling in the snow while Tech held firepuncher, keeping it away from his little brother.

"Good soldiers follow orders," Crosshair repeated over and over again as Hunter demanded to know why the hell he would shoot at their omega and the kid.

Wrecker tried to approach you, but you let out the nastiest snarl you could muster, flashing your fangs at him.

He just put his hands up, staying at a comfortable distance.

"They’re coming," Caleb said, holding onto your shirt.

"Who?" You asked.

"The other clones," he said, "We have to go, now!"

"I can’t," you felt tears start to shed as your instincts were ripping you in half. You wanted to protect the pup, but the other part of you needed to be with your alphas.

"They’re not who you think they are… not anymore," he warned.

"I can’t leave them," you bent down, picking up his lightsaber and handing it to him. You smoothed down his hair and looked the child in the eyes, "You need to run. You need to stay alive."

"What about you?" He asked, looking at your fighting unit.

"They won’t hurt me," you nodded.

He just stood up, looking skeptical before looking into the tree line where approaching noises were coming from.

You gave the child a nod before he turned and sprinted off into the woods, disappearing into the snowy wilderness. You heaved in the snow, feeling like you failed somehow.

"Omega?" Tech asked, slowly approaching you, hoping you wouldn’t snap.

You refused to face them, feeling your tears slide down your hot cheeks, "What the fuck just happened?"

Ruh Roh... it's imperial Crosshair time...

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Taglist: @substantial-exposure

@rains-on-kamino

@minimissmoo

@z-and-the-batboys

@aynavaano

@9902sgirl

@sideofhorny

[luminoustarlight]

On The Edge | Din Djarin

A bounty takes you and The Mandalorian to Batuu and he reveals his true desires.

rating: explicit | pairing: din djarin x afab!reader | wc: 7.1k | read on ao3 warnings: canonical type violence, fluff, SMUT [vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, praise kink, blind folds], mutual pining

this is a repost from old blogs of mine but it is my writing <3

Wild space fascinates you. The Unknown Regions of the galaxy are just that— unknown. Black holes, supernovas, and strange phenomena are largely unexplored and still remain a mystery to most space travelers. You’ve dreamt about what it might be like to witness a burst of colorful energy, no longer wishing to be a star, but rather a spectacle to be seen. 

You’ve loved the many parts of the galaxy you’ve seen, planets you often frequented, but the stars always look the same no matter where you are. Inner, Mid, or Outer Rim. 

As Mando lands the Crest at one of the ports on Batuu, you know this is the closest you’ll get to being in Wild Space. You’ve read stories and heard tales of travelers who stopped on Batuu before making their journey into the unknown. You are at the edge of the galaxy and you want to explore. 

Thankfully, Mando said you can take Grogu with you to the Black Spire Outpost while he is off tracking his bounty… or bounties. Batuu has largely become a backwater world full of smugglers, gamblers, and those who want to stay off the grid. Since travelers no longer need to make a stop on the planet before venturing further into space thanks to advancements in hyperspace technology, it’s been the perfect hideout. It’s a haven for those who prefer life in the shadows. 

Still, trading outposts thrive with shops and popular eateries. You can’t wait to get Grogu out of the ship and stretch your legs. 

You are definitely in need of some new clothes thanks to a run-in with a couple of testy loth-cats going after the Child. Speaking of Grogu, he’s in need of some actual toys. And maybe you’ll get something for The Mandalorian to remember you by if you ever met an untimely fate. 

Hey, running around with a bounty hunter and a child is a dangerous business. Not to mention the bounty that was once on your head, too. Nevertheless, after nearly a year with the gruff Mandalorian and curious child, you would trade your life for theirs without an ounce of hesitance. 

You like Mando more than you like to admit. He broody, you’re bubbly. He’s quiet, you’re talkative. He’s realistic, you’re a dreamer. Sometimes you feel like you’re chipping away at his Beskar wall, discovering parts of Mando he’s forgotten about himself. You never pry, you always let him lead the conversation. And actual conversations with The Mandalorian are few and far between. But when you have them, they matter more to you than he knows. 

Mando stands from his chair and heads for the armory. You follow close behind, Grogu nestled in your arms. You’ve gotten quite good at descending the ladder with one hand from the amount of time you hold the Child.

“Here.” Mando shoves your WESTAR-35 pistol against you. You grab it with your free hand before he releases it to gather more weapons for his trek. You are about to say that you don’t want it, but he speaks before you do. “It’s seedy out there. And you’re taking the Kid. Just to be safe. Do you have your knife?” 

You roll your eyes. If there’s anything you’ve learned about Mando that’s surprised you, it’s that he worries. A lot. 

“ It’s not paranoia if you encounter untrustworthy people every day. It’s being proactive.” You remember him telling you many months ago. You think it’s sweet he wants you to be protected. Or maybe it’s more for the Kid. 

“Maker, Mando. We’re just going to the shops and getting something to eat.” 

“I just want you to be prepared. You’re very—” Mando stops abruptly, catching himself before he says something he wants to keep to himself. “I don’t want… someone might try to take advantage of you.” 

“You know I’m too keen to let that happen. I have my wits, my weapons, and my good looks.” You place Grogu on his feet so you can conceal your pistol beneath your shirt. You check your side pocket, ensuring you have the knife Mando crafted for you. It’s a more thoughtful gift than you initially realized, but you cherish it now. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Mando mumbles, turning away from you. 

What does that mean? Before you can ask, he turns back around with a pouch of credits. “This is yours to spend.” And then he hands you another. “This is for food. For you and Grogu. Save your credits.” 

Your eyebrows crease together. He is being awfully generous today… perhaps it’s because he knows how long you’ve dreamt of visiting the Black Spire Outpost. Or perhaps it’s because he’s tracking three bounties and knows he’s in for a big payday when he gets all of them back to Karga. 

He stares at you while you think of the reason why he’s given you so much. Then your face relaxes. Just be thankful. 

“Thank you, Mando. Bright Eyes and I are gonna get a feast at Ronto Roasters, aren’t we, buddy?” 

The Child quirks up at you, cooing at the thought of something carnivorous to eat. 

“Just be careful,” Mando warns while the three of you descend the ramp with the Kid’s pram beside you. 

“I know.” 

“I’ll be gone for at least a few days. I might not return until I have acquired all three bounties.” 

“Okay,” you say contentedly. It’s routine for Mando to leave for extended periods of time. Sometimes you’d go a couple of days without communication and that used to worry you, but it doesn’t anymore. After about two months of traveling with him, you two decided that if you hadn’t heard anything from him: a hello, an update, or anything after seven days, you would contact him. He also said if you ever needed anything, you could turn on the comms. Every time Mando leaves, he hopes you need something. Hopes you want to hear his voice just as much as he wants to hear yours. You never do, though. 

“Mando?” 

The bounty hunter twists his head in your direction. He’d been looking towards the outpost, silent and brooding. “What?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Fine.” He bends down to pick up the Kid. “Behave, okay? Listen to your mother.” 

Your heart squeezes. He can’t go around saying things like “your mother” because that would imply Mando is “his father” and that would imply that the three of you are a family. And you’re not a family. Right? What constitutes a family, anyway? Certainly not a bounty hunter and his two ex-bounties he’s decided to keep for the long haul. Now you’re the one staring at the outpost. 

“I’ll…” Mando places your shared child in the pram. “Don’t have too much fun without me.” 

Grogu’s ears drop, a tell-tale sign of his sadness or disappointment. He knows Mando is leaving. He looks over at you with big, sorrowful eyes. 

“How could we? You’re the life of the party, Mando,” you say lightly. You get a little chuckle out of him because you both know that you’re the entertaining one. Still, you wish you could walk around the outpost together, have a meal together, and share the experience of being at the edge of the galaxy together. 

But off you go in different directions, Mando’s cape whipping in the wind. You look back at him several times and he looks back at you until you and Grogu disappear into the crowd. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

“What do you think about this?” You hold up a light brown shawl with a hood. The fabric is light and drapey, and it would be ideal for cooler nights on temperate planets. You’ve already purchased a heavier jacket, made with stiffer and thicker material equipped with many practical pockets from another merchant. You also got new pants to replace the ones the loth-cats tore through, as well as some flowy and airy pants for warmer weather. Mando gave you the money to spend, right? Might as well get a new wardrobe with it. 

Grogu coos in approval at the shawl you are showing him and you decide to pay for this last piece of clothing and then head to the Toydarian Toymaker. Although you know Grogu will still play with anything but an actual toy, you still feel bad all he has is the metal ball from the lever in the cockpit. 

“What an interesting looking child you have there,” the Trandoshan clerk comments as he takes your credits. You glance at Grogu in the pram, unsuspecting of the tone the Trandoshan spoke in. You take your shawl from the counter and take the Kid out of the egg. You hold onto him tightly as the worker stares at him. His thin tongue slips out of his mouth and licks his scales. 

Not good. 

“Thank you. Goodbye,” you grab the rest of your purchases and walk calmly but swiftly out of the shop. Not good, not good, not good. The pram only moves so fast, so you know it’s best to keep the Child in your arms. Your bags of new clothing weigh heavily on your shoulder as you try not to obviously run away from the Trandoshan. You look behind you to see if he’s trailing you. 

Grogu giggles wildly against you, rather enjoying his excursion. “Now’s not the time, Kid. I think we’ve got trouble.” 

You pass by unassuming patrons, many of them walking leisurely from store to store. “Sorry! Sorry!” You apologize to a mother when you bumped into her son. She curses at you in her native language but you’re already gone. As you round the corner to the port where the Crest is, a loud croak emerges behind you. You immediately drop your bag and whip out your pistol from behind your back. 

The shopkeeper is nearing you with his blaster pointed at your face. His yellow eyes bore into you, trying to determine what your next move is. Your arm is aimed steadily at the reptilian creature, your controlled and intentional breathing calming you. There is no one else around the port and you’re not sure if that comforts or concerns you. No witnesses. No helpers, either. Not that anyone would help, anyway. 

“Hand over the kid,” he sneers while stepping closer. You walk backward as he does so, not once taking your eyes off of him. Grogu’s soft ear brushes against your arm as he looks up at you. 

“Over my dead body.” 

“If that is what you wish…” 

Blast! 

Unfaltering, you fire your pistol, dead center in the Trandoshan’s chest. He drops to the ground with a heavy thud and wisps of smoke trail into the air. A wave of relief washes over you and you kiss the top of Grogu’s fuzzy head. 

But then you realize it shouldn’t have been so easy. Trandoshans relish in the thrill of the hunt. That was hardly a fight and there didn’t seem to be any real sense of urgency for acquiring your child. Was he hunting Grogu as a bounty or as a snack? Both thoughts make you shiver. You place him back in his pram and close it. You cautiously walk towards the Trandoshan, still lying on the ground. You know that they are quick to heal but don’t know the full extent of their abilities. You kick his blaster out of arm's reach before standing over him and shooting him in the head. And then the chest again…  

You need to be sure he’s dead and you’ve never killed a Trandoshan before. If it was overkill, so be it. You’ll do anything to protect your child. 

Now you just need to figure out what to do with the body… 

You grab your bag full of new clothing and open Grogu’s egg. There he is, bright-eyed and smiling at you. You feel bad you didn’t get around to buying him anything, but perhaps you’ll go back out. Or maybe that’s a bad idea. You need to talk to Mando. But you also know he’d likely come back to make sure everything was okay. And you have everything under control. 

Safe in the ship, you hike up to the cockpit to get on the comms. You hope it doesn’t freak him out, since you’ve never contacted him before. What if he’s tailing his bounty? What if he is fighting them and you distract him and he ends up killed? 

No, your Mandalorian is too good for that to happen. You sit down in Mando’s seat and hover your finger over the intercom button. Here it goes. 

Static crackles before the airway goes clear. “M-Mando?” 

“Sarad?” Mando says immediately. You let out a sigh of relief when you hear your nickname. A nickname you still don’t know the meaning of. “Are you okay? Grogu?” 

You swallow. Why are you so nervous? You killed the guy, Grogu is safe, and you feel… fine? “We’re both fine. Well, I mean… not fine. We’re not hurt. It’s just that—” 

“What is it,” Mando pressed, adding your name at the end. 

“We were at a shop. Everything was fine until it wasn’t. A Trandoshan was taking the money and he made a comment about Grogu and it was just off. He was so creepy and his eyes looked hungry. I just grabbed my things and took off. I made it to the ship but he was already there. He said to hand over the Kid and I said ‘over my dead body,’ and I shot him. And then I shot him again. And then again. I had to make sure he was dead, you know? I don’t know if he had a fob, I didn’t hear it at all. I feel so guilty because I shopped so much and I didn’t get anything for Grogu so I thought maybe we’d go back out but is that a bad idea? It’s probably a bad idea. But we’re so far out and we just got here so maybe that guy just wanted to eat him? I-” 

“Sarad, take a breath,” Mando says calmly. He can just imagine you in a frazzled state with unfocused eyes when telling him a story.

You do as he says, breathing in deeply. Oh, that feels good. Your lungs appreciated the taste of air. Have you not taken a breath that whole time? 

“Where is the Trandoshan now?”

 “Right where I killed him. Outside of the ship. What am I supposed to do with it?” 

“Is there anyone else at the port?” 

“Not that I know of.” 

“Local patrol will eventually find him. If they try to make contact with you on the ship, ignore it. They’ll think no one is on board and they have no rights to search it.” He sounds so sure of himself, but you can’t help but imagine patrol boarding the ship and arresting you. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. Do you want me to come back?” 

How are you supposed to answer that? Of course, you want him to come back. You always want him to come back the minute he leaves. You want to go back to the Black Spire and shop with him, have him help you find something for Grogu. But he has a job to do. And stealing your heart was not one of them. 

“No, we’ll be fine,” you sigh. 

“We’ll talk later,” Mando says gently, promisingly. Hopefully. 

A couple of hours later, local patrol indeed picks up the Trandoshan you killed and makes no effort in contacting you on the ship. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

The Crest is quiet and still. Grogu is taking a nap and you’re doing a deep clean of the weapons. Mando has been gone for three days and you’ve talked every day. Usually, he is the one who gets on, asking if you are around. Of course, you’re around. Where else would you go? You can’t tell him you’re too scared to go back to the outpost, so you told him you would use this time to clean the ship and make any repairs that you’d been putting off. 

Every barrel, chamber, handle, and trigger of the blasters are as good as new. You disassembled each of them and meticulously put them back together. Mando, of course, has his pulse rifle and several other weapons, so you won’t be able to clean them until he comes back. 

You miss him. You miss him more than you ever have and you don’t know why. You’re used to being away from him and not talking for extended lengths of time. Now you’re talking to him every day, throughout the day, and you long to have him next to you. To have his broad figure taking up half of the space in the cockpit and his modulated breathing as a comforting sound to help you sleep. 

There’s only so much you can do to entertain Grogu. You tell him the same tales of travelers venturing into the unknown frontier of Wild Space, helping him practice the Force magic with the metal ball and other objects around the ship, coming up with songs while you tinker with repairs. You love him, but you’re getting a little stir-crazy. You want to go back to the Outpost and you want Mando. 

You close up the armory and decide to join Grogu for a nap when you hear Mando say your name over the comms. “You there?” 

“I’m here,” you say into your portable communicator. You fixed it on the second day so you don’t have to stay in the cockpit or race up whenever Mando reaches out. 

“Good. I- I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

Thump, thump. You place your hand over your heart. Cool it. “Oh. well, hi. How are you?” 

“Good,” he replies, unconvincingly. He’s tired. You know he is.“I’ve got two of the bounties. I’m on my way back.” 

Your heart hammers harder. Depending on where he is, he could be back before or by nightfall. You could see him tonight, tomorrow morning at the very latest. He’d be stinky and probably grumpy like he always is when he comes back from a long hunt, but he’d be home.

And you can figure out what the stars is going on with your emotions. Maybe. Hopefully. Or they’ll get worse. 

“That’s good. I, um… we miss you.” 

You feel like you can hear Mando smile. “I miss you, too,” he says quietly, unsure if he wants you to hear him say it. “Both of you,” he follows up. “I’ll be back soon.” 

 I miss you, too. You think that’s the closest you’ll get to knowing how Mando feels about you. He misses you. He’s given you gifts. He trusts you with the Child. It may not be a proclamation of love or anything, but it’s enough. For now. 

“Blech.” An unfamiliar voice on Mando’s end grouches. “ Who is that? Your girlfriend or something?” 

“Shut it,” Mando warns sternly. “Sorry,” he says more gently, directed at you, you presume. 

“It’s okay.”

Several whines come from behind the storage door Mando uses as a sleeping bunk. Grogu has just woken up from his nap. “Hold on, the Kid’s waking up. I’m sure he’d love to hear your voice.” 

“Alright.” 

You press the control panel and the door slides open quickly. Grogu smiles when his bright inky eyes land on you. He babbles happily and raises his arms out toward you. “Hey buddy,” you lift him out of the hammock. “Say ‘hi’ to Dad.” 

Grogu coos into your communicator. 

“Hey, Kid,” Mando says. “Has your buir been taking good care of you?” 

“No, we’ve been eating nothing but junk food and killing more Trandoshans,” you reply on behalf of Grogu. 

Mando lets himself chuckle at your comment. “I’m sure you have been.” 

“I think I’m going to hurl. I’d rather be dead than listen to this conversation.” The same mysterious voice interjects again. The bounty can’t even hear what you’re saying. They must be filling in your replies with their imagination. 

“I gave you the option,” your bounty hunter calls back to his infamous one-liner. 

“Hey,” you offer gently. “Just worry about getting back safely. We’ll see you when you get back.” 

“Can’t wait, sarad. ” 

The comm goes silent. Your heart is hammering, your tummy is bubbling and your head is reeling. Mando wanted to hear your voice. He said he can’t wait to see you. You look at Grogu and ask, “Do you have any idea what’s going on between me and your dad?” 

Your child replies back with a curious coo. You’re in love with him, you assume he says. Can it be? Are you in love with The Mandalorian? 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

It feels like hours had gone by since you last spoke with Mando. You thought every sound you heard was the ramp lowering. You paced the hull of the ship, climbed up and down the ladder, and played with Grogu until you grew impossibly antsy. Those bounties must be slowing him down.  

When Mando finally comes back, you’re using the kriffing vacc tube! 

A clamoring erupts from the other side of the door, much of it sounding like resistance from the two bounties. Just as you emerge from the vacc tube, Mando is pushing one of the bounties into the carbonite freezer. The other, a tall, blonde, human male is looking directly at you. His wrists are bound in front of him and he knows what his near future is looking like, but that doesn’t stop him from smirking at you. “Hey there, pretty thing.” 

“Mando, you’re back,” you smile lightly, ignoring the bounty’s comment. It’s the same voice you heard over the comms. As you begin to walk towards them, the bounty frowns at you, extending his shackled arms forward, trying to catch the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. 

“Now, that’s no way to treat a guest. You just gonna let her ignore me like that?” 

You roll your eyes and punch him firmly in the gut. You (and Mando) watch with contentment as he doubles over in pain. You know how to land a good blow, which is just part of why Mando keeps you around. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you taunt. “Was that the kind of attention you wanted?” 

You kick him into the freezer and let Mando hit the control. The man’s slender face grimaces, temporarily immortalizing his expression until he’s defrosted. 

“Hi,” Mando finally says. “Did he touch you? Are you alright?” 

You shrug. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m really just… I’m happy to see you.” 

Mando sighs and steps closer to you. As you let him into your space, you breathe him in. He doesn’t smell as bad as you thought he might. Granted, the weather on Batuu is pretty mild. No extreme heat to cause excessive sweating beneath his armorweave and Beskar. Still, he’s gone four days without a shower. It doesn’t matter. You want to hug him. You want to be all around him, swallowed in his scent. You’ve missed him so kriffing much, you don’t even realize he’s brought his gloved hand up to your forehead. Your skin prickles and your breath catches in your throat. He traces a line down your face to your chin. He angles your head towards his and Maker, nothing is normal about this. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

I’m thinking about how much I’ve missed you and how I want to get on my knees and– 

“Hey, Grogu,” Mando notices your child tugging at the hem of his pants. He lifts him in his arms. Grogu clings onto Mando’s cowl and babbles happily. “I’ve missed you, too.” 

“A-are you going back out? For the third bounty?” 

Mando shakes his head. “The third bounty isn’t here anymore.” 

Oh. That means you’re leaving Batuu. You didn’t even have a chance to get anything for Grogu or Mando. He can tell you’re disappointed by the way your face falls. “We can stay another day. If you wanted to go back to the Outpost together.” 

Can he read minds now? 

“Yeah, that sounds nice. Are you hungry? We don’t have any food left, but we can go back to Ronto Roasters and bring it back here. Or I can go out and let you spend some time with Grogu and freshen up.” You can tell how exhausted he is. You don’t even have to see his face to know that. His shoulders reveal a multitude of traits— they adopt a heaviness when he’s tired. They roll back when he’s intimidating a bounty. And when he’s with you and Grogu, you feel as though he finally lets himself relax. 

“You sure you want to go out alone?” Mando’s voice is tentative. He knows you were worried about going back out with Grogu, but he isn’t sure how you feel about going out alone. He knows you’re capable of it. You have your pistol, your knife, and your solid fists. 

“I’m good. Is that what you want me to do?” 

Not really, he thinks. He wants you to stay on the ship. He wants to hear about everything you and Grogu got up to while he was gone. He wants to see what you got for yourself at the outpost, but most of all, he just doesn’t want you to leave. He wants to be with you. But then his stomach rumbles. Dank ferrik. He hasn’t eaten anything substantial in days. As much as it displeases him, he agrees to let you go back out. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

The Mandalorian is taking a nap when you return with the food. You half expected him to be asleep with the Child in his arms and you are right. Grogu is anything but tired, having already taken four naps during the day. He’s nestled against Mando’s side, nice and safe from the monsters lurking in the shadows. 

You set the food down at the foot of the closet and tap on the wall. Mando lifts his head and smiles beneath his helmet. “Food’s hot, if you want it,” you inform. You turn to make your way up the ladder but stop when you hear scuffling and feel a gloved hand on your wrist. 

“Stay?” Mando wonders. 

He wants you to stay? While he eats? You were only going to do what you always do. If Mando’s eating below deck, you go up top, and vice versa. “You don’t want to eat?” 

“I- I do. I was wondering… if you might want to eat together. Back to back,” he quickly adds. “I trust you,” he emphasizes those last three words, reiterating the bond you two have built over the past eleven months. 

“I’d love nothing more than to have dinner with you, Mando.” 

You begin taking out the food, arranging it in a line on the floor of the Crest. You gather three plates while Mando opens the containers of meat, vegetables, and starch. 

With piles of food on each of your plates, you and Mando sit back to back, with Grogu on your lap. He isn’t moving and neither are you. He might have suggested the idea, but if he’s having second thoughts, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable. “We don’t have to do this,” you say. 

“No,” Mando quickly replies. “I want to. Just… do you promise not to look, sarad ?” 

“I promise on all the stars of the known and unknown galaxies. I would never betray your trust.” You try to comprehend the gravity of this action for him. It’s forbidden for him to show his face to any living thing. And although you’re not going to see his face, here he is, removing his helmet in your presence. Because he trusts you. 

With a click, hiss, and a clunk, his helmet was off. You glance behind you, to see the glimmer of his helmet on the ground. You snap your head back and look straight. You tell yourself to focus on Grogu getting grease on your new pants, to focus on the inviting food on your plate, to focus on anything but your helmetless Mandalorian. You begin shoving your face with Solanum. Grogu offers you a piece of meat with a coo. 

“You with me, sarad ?” 

You almost choke on the food in your mouth. His voice rings through your ears and your spine shivers. Clear and unmodulated, raspy and gruff, but gentle all the same. You want to hear him again. You swallow. “Here. I’m here.” 

“Got nervous for a second. You were so quiet. It’s unlike you.” 

“Ha,” you deadpan. You can’t very well say you were silent because the only thoughts in your head are of him. What his face looks like, why he waited until now to do this, why he wanted to do this. “Do you like the food?” You ask instead. 

“Yes. It’s very good. Does Grogu like it?” Mando already knows the answer to the question, both of you knowing that the Kid likes everything, especially if it’s meat. 

“He’s almost done,” you laugh. You wonder how such a little thing can eat so much and so quickly. A large meal always tuckers him out, though. 

Mando hums in acknowledgment.

You finish dinner in comfortable silence. Grogu is sacked out in your arms by the time you two are done. “Gonna put him in the hammock. Don’t turn around, okay?” You’re already facing the bunk from the dinner so at least you don’t have to pass him. 

“Okay,” he replies. 

“Good night, little one.” You run your hand over the top of Grogu’s fuzzy head. You close the door and warn Mando that you’re turning around. “Wait,” you shut your eyes. “Am I allowed to see the color of your hair? I’m closing my eyes, my eyes are shut.” 

The Mandalorian rises from the floor and takes long strides over to where you’re standing. Right next to the vacc tube and sleeping bunk. How romantic. “Keep them closed,” he whispers close to you. 

You jump reactively, placing your hand over your heart. You instinctively want to open your eyes, but you squeeze them tight, scrunching your nose along with them. “Maker, Mando. You scared me.” 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He wraps his fingers around your wrist and brings it down to your sides. He slides his hand into yours. You can feel his breath on your face, all warm and savory from your meal. 

“It’s okay,” you answer softly. You let the tension in your face fall while still keeping your eyes closed. The tension in your chest, however, is a different story. It’s growing and stretching and clenching. 

“You’re so beautiful, sarad.” Mando threads his fingers between yours. “I’ve always thought so but seeing you through my own eyes, it’s so clear. Mesh’la.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“Beautiful,” he answers. You’re half surprised, seeing as he hasn’t told you what sarad means. 

“I-I’m sure you’re beautiful, too.” 

“You don’t have to say that.” 

“I mean it, Mando.” That name feels wrong now that he’s taken off his helmet. Doesn’t his helmet make him a Mandalorian? Now he’s just a man in armor, his face exposed to you, and Mando isn’t his name. He has a real name that goes with his face. The name his parents gave him when he was born. You wish so deeply to know who he really is. “You have a kindness to you. I don’t know if you know that you possess it, but you do. You’ve taken me and Grogu under your wing, you care for us and worry about us… it all makes you beautiful.” 

“ Sarad. My sweet sarad. You see things in me that I don’t. You’re kinder than me, more thoughtful than me. You’re selfless and generous. You take care of me and the Kid. You make me want to be a better person.  I want…” 

You feel his forehead rest against yours. Your legs are going to buckle beneath you, your heart is about to escape and leap into Mando’s chest. You can have it! 

“I want you,” Mando finally admits. And just like that, your heart is no longer yours. It is his and his to do what he wants with it. He can break it, he can cherish it, he can keep it forever. Because the culmination of everything you two have been through has led to this moment in the Crest.

You don’t even think. You tilt your head up blindly and press your lips against his. They are soft, but the scruff above his lip is coarse. He doesn’t hesitate, either. He moves against you, putting his hands on either side of your cheeks. He brings you impossibly closer to him, afraid that if he lets you go he’ll never get you back. The deep scent of leather from his gloves invades your senses as his tongue slips into your mouth. Your own hands find themselves in his hair. 

“Is this okay?” you mumble against him. 

“M-more than okay. Want…” he kisses harder before pulling away to look at you. Your eyes are still closed but your mouth is agape. You lean forward, wishing to fill the void Mando created. 

“What?” you furrow your brows. 

“I want more. If you’ll let me.” 

You tug on the hairs at the nape of his neck. His hair is soft and you can tell he keeps it well-trimmed. “You mean you want to have sex with me?” 

Mando— you wish you knew his name— almost snickers. At least, that’s what it sort of sounds like. “Among other things, mesh’la .”

“Like what?” You gulp. 

“Like hearing you say my name.” 

First, he takes off his helmet and now he wants you to say his name? Did he hit his head out there? “Wh-what?” 

He pushes your hair away from your forehead and trails his hands down your exposed arms before landing at your hands. He grasps them firmly, then brings them to your chest. “My name is Din Djarin. And I’d like to hear you say it.” 

Din Djarin. Din Djarin. You know your Mandalorian’s name. How wizard is that? “Din Djarin,” you say tenderly. “Din Djarin. A beautiful name for a beautiful man.” 

Din just gave you his heart, and then some. Who he is under the armor and helmet. Who his parents made him to be. He’s just a man. A brave man, a complicated man. A man you wish to know everything about. You’ve known him for eleven months and you’ve only just learned his name. You can’t help but think you’ve got a long way to go. 

“Will you let me take care of you, mesh’la ? Will you let me have you?” 

You nod promptly. Your center is already pooling with arousal, aching with anticipation. “Please, Din. Let you do anything.” 

Something is stirring deep within Din when he hears his name roll off your tongue. Like you were made to say his name. You and only you. “Good. Stay here, sweet girl. Keep your eyes closed.” 

You do as he says, soon hearing him rummage through the storage bins against the wall. You aren’t waiting long before he comes back to you. “Turn around.” 

“Would it kill you to say please?” 

Maker, you’re insufferable sometimes. “Please.” 

“Thank you.” You turn on your heels. Din places a light piece of fabric over your eyes and you immediately know why he’s blindfolding you. Din turns you back around and his lips return to yours, sending surprise tingles through your body. His hands can’t decide where they want to be– first your face, then your hair, then down to your waist before settling on your hips. He digs his fingers into your backside, pulling you closer to his body. He nudges his thigh between your legs, briefly brushing the spot that desperately needs attention. You groan, rolling your head back and allowing Din perfect access to your neck. 

He places light kisses down the expanse of your neck, peppering them from your collarbone, up to the corner of your jaw. You lower yourself onto his cold Beskar cuisse, hoping to create some friction against your center. 

Unsuccessful.

“Need you,” you breathe, struggling to find purchase on his armored body. Maker, there is barely anything for you to cling to, save for his cowl and cape. 

“What do you need, mesh’la ?”

“F-fingers, mouth, anything. Just more. Please,” you lean your head down on Din’s pauldron, steadying yourself with his shoulders when he removes his thigh from between your legs. He picks you up in one fell swoop, making you yelp in surprise. He walks two paces over to your bedroll and gently lays you down. 

“How about both?” Din slides your flowy pants and underwear down your legs. His cock twitches with each inch of skin that is revealed. He kisses over your navel, down to your center where you’re glistening for him. He removes his gloves and places them in the pile with your pants. “Perfect,” he breathes. “Just perfect.” 

Din drags two fingers up your folds and presses on your clit. You shudder beneath him, overwhelmed by what you cannot see. His face mere inches from your pussy, the lust in his eyes for you and all that you have to offer. He pushes your legs open, leaving one hand holding down your thigh. He plays with the slick between your folds, teasing your entrance with two fingertips. He waits for you to beg again, to say his name with fervor before pushing into you with thick digits. “ Maker, Din!” 

His fingers alone fill you well, stretching you and preparing you for his cock. At the same time, he brings his lips down to your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. Your hands finally found something to grasp onto in the form of his hair. His fingers work quickly against your walls and it’s not long before you’re squirming against your bed. His hands are rough but his mouth is soft and warm. He hums and groans against you as his cock is becoming too painful to ignore. He fiddles with his zipper with one hand while continuing to pleasure you with the other. And with his mouth still on your cunt, he’s proving to be quite the multitasker. 

“Din, I don’t wanna… don’t wanna cum yet,” you dig your head into your mattress when he sucks harshly on your clit. 

“You’ll cum as many times as I want you to.” Din kisses the soft flesh of the inside of your thigh. He does the same on the other. “So if I want you to cum on my fingers and my mouth, you’re going to do just that.” 

At this, Din inserts a third finger and you yelp, arching your back and fingers fisting your sheets. “Fuck! Feels good, Din. Feels so good.” 

He rubs his hand over the head of his cock, spreading his precum down the rest of his length. He groans into you and begins pumping himself at the same pace of his fingers fucking you. “Cum, mesh’la. I want you to cum before you take my cock.” 

You feel the sensation creep into your system. Din’s fingers and mouth overwhelm you and take away all control you had over your body. The coil begins to unravel, and your clit pulses as your orgasm washes through you. Your thighs quake and your breath staggers. Din laps all of you up, allowing you to ride out your high against his mouth. “Good girl, mesh’la. Such a good girl.” 

Din brings his lips up to yours as he aligns himself with your entrance. “Can I?” 

“Please,” you nod. 

Immediately, Din rolls his hips into you. Stretching you wide and filling you high, you’re thankful Din took the time to prepare you. He is still, perhaps waiting for you to adjust. He kisses you tenderly and releases a heavy sigh as he revels in the feel of you around him. It’s far better than he imagined. He never thought he’d feel so complete. There’s no place in the galaxy he’d rather be. 

“M-move, Din. Please,” you breathe into him, finding yourself, yet again, drawn to the textured locks on his head. He slowly begins to thrust into you, setting a page that allows him to take his time. He’s weighed down by all of his clothing and armor, breaking more of a sweat with keeping himself from putting all of his weight on you. “Let me ride you, Din. Please, just lay down and rest.” 

You’ve always known how to take control of a situation and he isn’t going to argue with you. Din halts his movements, removes himself from you, and lays beside you on your bedroll. You blindly swing your thigh over him, grabbed the base of his cock, and lowered yourself onto him. His hands grip either side of your hips, guiding you up and down. You rip your shirt over your head, exposing the dusty blush bralette you have on. Din groans upon seeing the mounds of your breast, the way the lacy and sheer fabric looks against your skin. So kriffing perfect, he thinks. You lean down, wrapping your arms around Din’s back. 

Din juts his hips up into you, eliciting another yelp from your perfect mouth. It won’t be long before you cum again. You two work together, creating a rhythm that flows beautifully. Your moans and his grunts compose the melody. A sweet and harmonious sound. He sucks and kisses your collar, while you do the same on his neck and jawline. You learn his scruff isn’t just around his mouth. He has the makings of a beard. 

“Gonna cum soon, sarad, ” Din pants. 

“Me too,” you moan. Din slips his hand between you, finding your clit with ease. “Maker! Fuck!” 

With the additional friction of his fingers against your swollen bud, you’re done for. Your body falls limp against Din and he holds you tightly while he spills his thick seed inside of you. His cock twitches while you clench around him. “ Nngh,” he groans weakly. You stay wrapped in his arms for a moment, savoring this first time with Din.

“Thank you, mesh’la,” Din whispers. “I need to wash up. I’m sorry. I should’ve before we… but I fell asleep…” 

“It’s okay,” you smile gently. You imagine what he must look like. Flustered, flushed, and sweaty. You roll off of him and tell him you’ll wait for him in the bunk with the lights off. 

“Okay,” he kisses you. He gets up from the bedroll and climbs up the ladder to the ‘fresher. You take off your blindfold when it was safe to do so. You have to blink a couple of times to adjust to the light. You tidy your clothes into a pile near your bed, use the vacc tube, and change into your sleeping clothes. You crawl into the sleeping bunk, shimmying under the covers that smell so strongly of Din. 

As you wait for him to finish washing up, you can only think of one thing. 

Forget about Wild Space. You want to discover anything and everything there is to know about Din Djarin.

ugh i'm still so proud of this piece

◂ din masterlist ▸ main masterlist

[lunarw0rks]

Torn | Part Two

Summary: You're Philip Graves' secret lover, and it's complicated, to say the least. When your new 141 ally, Simon Riley, catches your eye, you're forced to make a decision.

Warning(s): canon-typical violence, strong language, death, mild injury/blood mention, slightly suggestive content

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Still unsure of this chapter, but nonetheless, here it is.

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GRAVES MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter | ao3 ver.

You knew what you signed up for when you joined Shadow Company, hand selected by Graves himself. It was mercenary work; unconventional jobs, covert ops, the works—that you could handle. But you couldn’t handle how it's changed him.

Maybe that was on you for being seduced by the boss, or maybe it was on him. The blame game you were beating yourself up with wasn’t aiding any of it.

Still, the thoughts that swarmed you the previous night—they were truly wrong. At least that was what your guilt was telling you. Graves? Hell, he never needed to know. He had just as much a roaming eye when it came to other women.

Infidelity should’ve been the least of your concerns, considering you were assisting your new allies in a high-priority op. You were quite literally putting on the gear that would protect you, triple checking your pack, and most of all stifling your own roaming eye.

Simon—or, Ghost—was the object of your fantasies, and you didn’t feel as horrible about that as you should’ve, despite all the internal conflict you were feeling. And now, to be standing next to the bloke, it was torturous.

Another second with Graves, you would’ve ripped his head off his shoulders and ran for the hills, so you would much rather suffer in silence as your eyes ogled. But this allyship would end one day, you’d go back to working with Shadow Company, and surely the kinks would work themselves out without further issue…

“You’re with me today.” Simon picks up his rifle, motioning his head in the direction of the door. You expected him to already be striding down the hall, but he was waiting for you to finish gathering your gear. Perhaps, he took pity on your widened gaze—God, if only he knew the reason why.

The heavy backpack found your shoulders, then you found your own piece, nodding for his speedy steps to lead you out of the armory.

His feedback crackled through the earpiece when he tested the sound, allowing you to hear the chatter of the other units, the other pairs assisting on this op, and most interestingly, Graves himself.

“You boys almost there?”

“Five minutes out. Nearly there.” Ghost answers him before you can, an act you’re immensely thankful for, though Graves would’ve said something so bland there was no chance it would raise anyone’s suspicion.

The ride is short; Simon looks out the window on his side, gun resting between his widespread legs. You, sneaking glances when you can, taking advantage of how he’d zoned out after minutes of unpaved road stretching. Finally, the small hideout revealed itself—the closest hint to Hassan’s location as of late. Surely, this couldn’t be it, given the small scale of the building. Graves wouldn’t waste resources and bring you here if it wasn’t, though. One look at Captain Price, and you knew he was for no-nonsense either.

None of it made sense to you, but you didn’t have the authority to question it.

You follow orders, get blacklisted, or end up dead in the dirt your combat boots are crunching in right this second. Simon led, making use of the buddy system formation—a diagonal line formation where you could watch each other’s six. His gun raised to the windows of the home, examining the lights illuminating the top floor, and most of all the silhouettes cast on the sheer curtains.

It’s an older-style home, surely not easy to maintain stealth with all the creaks of wood, and the tired settling frame when there’s the slightest movement. But with Ghost in front of you, you felt safer than you ever did when Graves led you in formation. You wished that didn’t make you feel so bad as it did to admit, downright queasy.

“Watch the kitchen.” His harsh tone stirred you out of your inner monologue, which resembled more of a melting pot of guilt and dwindling self-respect.

You aim your rifle in the direction of the kitchen, an L-shaped one with the original cabinets untouched and unpainted. A shotty pendant illuminated it, casting a golden tint on the entire downstairs. It wasn’t much of a house and definitely wasn’t one Hassan would use to hide. No armed guards, no booby traps, no suspicious documents in your or Simon’s sight.

It felt… unorthodox.

Cups of coffee sat on the tiny dining table, but they weren’t steaming. They were clearly left there longer than an hour, more than enough time for any useful informants to be found by now. You were there too late, you were sure of it. Despite how calm and quiet Ghost had been, it was clear his expectations were let down as well.

It was up the stairs next, the most nail-biting portion so far. Simon’s barrel eyed the landing, yours did the hall at the top. Someone was in the front room up here, that silhouette couldn’t have been a figment you both laid eyes on.

His boot nudged each door of the hall, as to prevent a stray bullet hitting something vital if he were to put his whole frame in the way of the arch. But there was nothing; not a sound. Doors left opened partially, but no sign of the figure you both saw outside.

“Stay on your toes.” Ghost whispers, his husk sending a chill up your spine for two different reasons. His gloved hand found the knob, a cringe-worthy squeak when the hinges moved. Your eyes stayed on your behind, down the stairs and the window in the hall, watching for something—any movement.

He crept inside, you walking backward and using only the sound of his steps to guide you when to step.

It was an office of some sort, meant to be the master bedroom of the quaint home. Instead of a bed, there was a mess piled on top of what once was a desk. Papers, jars of chemical substances, pliers, and tools alike—someone’s twisted version of arts and crafts.

Simon snapped his fingers, pointing towards the closet—the final hiding spot you were sure was empty. But the doors were shut, shut all the way, unlike all the other doors in this home. You silently crept ahead, one hand sliding open the pocket doors. You weren’t sure what to expect; opening the doors could trigger a trap or there really could be someone waiting for you.

But, it was empty; an empty closet, not a single hanger or box of clutter stored within it.

As suddenly as you felt it, there was the whizz of a silenced bullet. A sharp pain in your side, a force that knocked you to the ground of the bedroom, but there was no oozing blood from your chest—only a dreadful burn. Your vest had absorbed it, but the pain reminded you of the purple welt that would reside there if you got out of this obvious trap alive.

Simon knelt in front of the window, his rifle mounted against it as he watched for the source. “Stay down, Private!” They weren’t too deep in the hills, the shot came too quick and it was too straight. They could’ve been as close as the brush at the neighboring home.

Your gun had left your hands, and frankly, you weren’t sure your torso could bear the weight of it right this second. That’s when you spotted it—eyes glowing from under the table in the corner, blinking and making a slow movement out from under the shadows. A hand crept out, still maintaining eye contact. 

You found the thigh holster, grabbing your pistol. Whoever it was, they darted out from under the surface, about to ambush Ghost’s distracted state. There was no time to alert him verbally, and you couldn’t manage anything but pained groans right now.

It was pure instinct, how quickly you aimed and took your shot.

The man slumped against the chair in the corner, a smoking hole in his head. Simon turned, ears ringing and head screaming. You’d saved his life, a dangerously close shot you decided to take while writhing in pain. “Christ!” He bellowed, gun aimed at the lifeless hostile with a splatter of crimson behind his head.

Simon’s eyes widened, but there was no time for gratitude or shock. He somehow moved quicker than you on your sharpest day, finally taking a shot at the sniper that hit you. Ghost’s fingers found the button on the radio as quickly as they pulled the trigger—deadly timing.

“Two hostiles down; a sniper and an unknown.” He then bent down in front of you, handing you the gun that was sent flying when you hit the ground. A firm hand found your wrist, yanking you to your feet. 

No warm words, only a slightly softened look. There were more significant issues on his mind, reasonably so, considering you just saved his ass.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

—

You peered at your bare, battered chest as soon as you made it to the privacy of your temporary barrack. With a swab, you dabbed at the welt now formed, a nasty purple bruise surrounding it from the sheer speed and force of the sniper bullet.

You were lucky there was such low visibility that night, that the ambush wasn’t better calculated, otherwise you would’ve ended up with a bullet in your head too. It could’ve been much, much worse than it was, but that didn’t ease the wince in your face.

A bandage would do—one you slapped on with little care for how it looked. You had gotten out alive, as did Ghost, all your doing. It was as if the minute you returned to base, that irrational guilt gnawing at you returned, as did the thoughts.

But you needed to get out there and attempt to keep appearances. So you did, returning to the hall of the briefing room. Shadows and 141s alike, most in their own corners working or talking business for the following day.

You’d spotted his head of hair in the crowd, surrounded by a portion of the Shadows under his control.

“Can I speak to you, Commander?” You said, urging him to turn around and stop whatever smug pastime he was retelling for them. He was much too nonchalant, considering how unsuccessful and risky today was.

He turned and nodded, following you out to the hall willingly, though he gave his men a look that said he dreaded your presence. It was for the act—right?

You used to convince yourself that, but it was abundantly clear that something was wrong with him, the way he felt toward you today. He was… hardened and stern, more than he had ever been, even when you two weren’t fraternizing.

“Heard you took one today.” Graves patted your chest, a futile attempt to lighten your mood. Though, his hand smacking your chest only made you want to keel over and sob from how tender the spot was.

You weren’t ‘feeling the love’ or in any mood for his smugness right now. “Tell me about this op.” You cut off his sneer with an icy glare. “Not the bullshit you told us this morning, the truth. You and Shepard.”

Graves scoffed as if you had personally insulted his entire bloodline. “Excuse me?” Yes, it was his company. Yes, you were lower in the chain of command than him. No, it wasn’t his right to dangle his Shadows in front of danger like a meat to a hungry dog.

It was clear, or should’ve been, that this wasn’t your uniform speaking to him—it was you just as much. Before you spoke, you watched each side of the hall to ensure there weren’t listeners. “You’re… different, and I don’t like being in the dark.” His lies stuck out like a sore thumb, no matter how well he thought he was at hiding his true motivations.

Something was very wrong here, something even the 141 wasn’t privy to.

“You’re treading on thin ice right now, Shadow.” He tightened his lip into his signature pout, your words unable to budge him. There were no eavesdroppers, nor cameras in view, so why the hell was he talking to you like your boss? There had always been that line there—where and when he would drop the act. But he didn’t, and it made the figurative knife twist further.

“You nearly got us killed, Phillip. Tell me what the hell is going on!” You hissed, your voice emulating a hushed outcry concealed by gritted teeth.

His hands found the flesh of your shoulder, backing you against the wall behind you. “Following fucking orders, that’s all you need to know! Got it?” His fingertips dug into your flesh, tightening when his stare deepened.

The smack moments ago was nothing compared to this—this hold dared your knees to buckle beneath you. But you couldn’t, not with how hard you’d clenched your jaw. It was anger disguised by betrayal, the betrayal of him pulling rank on you. 

He had plans, that much was abundantly clear. If he was willing to grabble you here, how much danger were these plans going to land you in?

You tore his iron grip off your shoulder, holding the tender spot, “I don’t know who you are anymore, Commander.” If he was going to hide behind formalities, so would you.

He slammed the door to the briefing room, though it was muffled by the overlapping conversation he’d returned to.

You were baffled; he had backed you into a corner—literally and figuratively. You, the one he once desired so badly, until he pushed you aside like an afterthought.

Whatever this was, it was long dead.

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[theteasetwrites]

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 6: Through Life and After Death

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT (18+)―missionary, body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (do not endorse), loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, sir kink if you squint, "fucked dumb" (lol), language ❧ Word Count: 15k (I am so sorry.)

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In This Chapter: With the threat of Negan and the Saviors' imminent return heavy on your mind, you find solace in one last excursion outside the castle walls, with your knight. A chance discovery, and the knowledge that this may be your last moment alone with him, leads you to the logical conclusion of your longing.

❧ A/N: Babe, wake up. The knight and the princess are about to boink. Btw I wrote most of this while I’m on my period so that might explain a lot.

The night before last had haunted you, tormented you, until you saw Sir Negan’s arrogant face in every shadow in your bedroom, every darkened corner of the castle, and even every forlorn hollow amongst the foliage in the courtyard where you took your afternoon strolls. 

Your own home became a house of horrors, and now, you could not stand to be there another minute. 

Before that night, the castle was only a place of sadness for you, but now, it was a looming threat, with each rising and setting of the sun marking another day closer to the day he would come back. You couldn’t even bear to speak his name, so you didn’t. You couldn’t, as though somehow even using your voice to acknowledge his existence was giving him more power. And yet, it was impossible to avoid the plague of unease that the man had infected you with. 

Afterall, your situation was dire, no matter what transpired in the coming days leading up to his return. If your father decided to appease Negan, the best option for the survival of the kingdom, it would mean you’d be given to him willingly, taken to the Sanctuary to be his wife. If your father refused to give you to him, you’d be taken by force, and there was no way that Alexandria’s now weakened defenses could fight the Saviors from taking you―they were going to take you, no matter what. There was no outcome that would be in your favor. You were going to be Negan’s now, and you had to accept it.

But you didn’t. 

Late last night, the king had left Alexandria in the hopes of making alliances with neighboring kingdoms against the Saviors in a last ditch effort to fight them. It was a noble pursuit, but worthless. Even with the help of the other provinces, the Saviors had weakened those kingdoms as well. Their armories were ransacked, and their numbers were increasingly dwindling. Still, you took advantage of your father’s absence―for one last excursion outside the walls before you’d surely be ripped away from your home in a matter of days. 

It was the easiest breakout yet, given the lack of guards roaming the corridors of the castle. The journey through the tunnel was quiet, none of the usual talk of knighthood or herbalism or the knight’s stories of his adventures in exotic, faraway lands. It wasn’t until the meadow when you asked Sir Daryl to treat this day just the same as the others―as if nothing had changed, and this wasn’t your last journey with him. 

And so, the knight being simply unable to refuse your wishes, he buried his sorrows to speak of things that pleased you, and you continued regaling him with quotes from your favorite tales and poems, all of which he listened to attentively, pulling Phantom’s reins as you both approached the familiar little cottage, its new outer walls now the first thing you saw.

It was only recently that Sir Daryl had commissioned a mason to build the protective border round the little house, an additional safety precaution to keep the walkers out, he said. Sometimes, you wondered if he’d had that built just for you to be safe, but perhaps that was a self-centered thought. The notion still produced a fluttering feeling in your abdomen, one that you became accustomed to since you first felt them with him. It was the most pleasant feeling you’d ever had, and no matter how you experimented to see if any other source of happiness could replicate that feeling, you always failed. 

The sun was setting now, the usual ending to the usual day out, only now, the knight had offered to prepare you a real supper, not just the usual loaves of bread and rosemary butter. This eve, he was set on something special―venison he’d hunted himself just days prior, accompanied by vegetables you’d collected from the cottage garden, many of which you’d never even tried before. “Peasants’ grub” the nobles called them, but they were simple potatoes, onions, cabbages, leeks, carrots… Everything you’d need for a good stew. 

But Daryl would not let you lift a finger, relegating you to sitting upon one of the straw-filled pillows strewn about on the floor, just a handful of feet from the warm lit hearth, where Daryl stood laboring over a steaming pot. 

“Are you sure you do not need any help?” you peeped, though you and he both knew that you had less skill in cooking than him. In fact, you’d never even cut a vegetable before today. That was simply not your responsibility.

He looked at you through curling smoke, his eyebrow raised at the notion. “Told ya I’d do it. Isn’t much left to do, anyway… Just gotta let it cook a bit more.”

With your posture as straight and perfect as ever, you nodded and wrapped the blanket he always gave you tighter around your body. At this point, it smelled distinctly of your sweet perfume. “Thank you again, Daryl. I know… I know this is not the most ideal time to leave the castle, but I could not stand to be there another second. I swear I can still smell that man’s stench.”

Daryl swallowed hard before clearing his throat, disturbed by the very thought of him, the man who he knew he could not stop from taking you, but he’d do anything in his power to prevent it from happening.

He’d thought of many things, in fact. He hadn’t slept in two nights, the time spent instead thinking of ways to stop Negan, but they all had their weaknesses. Of course, his first thought was to hide you, to take you away from the castle and keep you somewhere else, but that wouldn’t stop the Saviors from pillaging Alexandria, from killing more people. The one thing keeping Negan from destroying the kingdom was you, and even then, it was still uncertain. 

And killing Negan and enough of the Saviors to render them powerless was next to impossible. Alexandria was a small kingdom anyway, and now it had dwindled down to almost the size of a large village, with hardly any defenses or military-trained citizens to even stand a chance against an army of the Saviors’ size. The situation was hopeless, and he hated that all he could do was wait. 

“But it’s nice to be here,” you said. “I like it here… With you.”

He met your sweet smile with a boyishly lopsided one. The man was quite a bit older than you, but he had a youthfulness about him you couldn’t quite place. Perhaps it was in his eyes, which glimmered just as brightly as you’d imagined they had when he was closer to your own age. His face was weathered, but mostly, he was very handsome to you, with a softness to his features that mesmerized you at times. 

Particularly, you’d developed a fascination with his lips, the way they moved. He had a habit of folding in his lower lip and chewing on it, especially when deep in thought. Sometimes he’d purse them to the side when he was frustrated, or the top lip would snarl a bit when he killed a walker. You’d become attuned to the patterns of his smiles, grins, and smirks. Your favorites were the ones like this, uneven and slightly bashful, as though you’d said something that flattered him. 

You’d been flattering him a lot more lately, you realized. Perhaps your attraction to him was becoming more and more difficult to hide. Strangely, you did not feel the usual urge to combat it. Maybe it was the particular kind of heat from the hearth that evening or the way his hair was pinned behind his ears to keep it out of his way as he cooked, but the fluttery feeling in your abdomen was more persistent than usual, more continuous. At some point, you knew it would be impossible to hold back, but you had to. 

“I like being with you, too,” he replied, sprinkling some freshly ground herbs into the cast iron pot. “I wish I could…” He trailed off, stopping his train of thought before he spoke improperly in front of you. 

“Could what?”

Gut Negan ‘fore he lays another finger on you. “Nothin’.”

You huffed in amusement at his shyness. “Keeping secrets from your princess,” you teased with a wiggling brow and a squint of faux offense. “That is not very knightly behavior, sir.”

My princess, he thought. Mine.

He shook his head with a huff, ridding himself of his intrusive thoughts. “Wish I could… do somethin’ for you, s’all.” 

“Oh, Daryl,” you said. “You’ve already done so much for me. There’s nothing you could do… It is in my father’s hands. Well, it is in Negan’s hands, really.”

“But it shouldn’t be like that.”

“No, it shouldn’t, but it’s how it is, no matter what. Even if Sir Negan had no interest in me, my father would expect me to marry a noble, or a prince or king from some other kingdom. He’s a good father, but he is still a king. Really, I am quite lucky he has not married me off yet. Many princesses marry men they do not love. My mother, her marriage to my father was arranged. Somehow, it worked. They grew to love each other very much. I do not believe I could ever love Sir Negan, though… Not ever. He is evil.”

I won’t let him take you, he wanted to say, but he knew that would be an empty promise. Tonight, for all he knew, could’ve been one of the last nights he’d ever see you again. One thing was certain, this was going to be the last time he took you outside the castle. The last time he could truly be alone with you. And yet, he could not work up the courage to tell you how he felt, how he cherished you much more than he should’ve, how he believed he loved you. 

“Wish I could take you away from here,” he said, his lips moving faster than his brain could process his words. “Wish you could stay here, and Negan would never find you.” When his rationality caught up with him, he cleared his throat and shook his head in an attempt to take back what he just said, even though he meant every word. 

“I do, too,” you said, surprising him a bit. “I wish I could, but then what would Negan do? He’d destroy Alexandria. He’d kill my people… He might even kill my father. I couldn’t let that happen. No, I have to face it. There’s nothing anyone can do, Daryl, though I appreciate how much you care about my safety.”

I love you.

Instead of voicing his thought, he eyed the weakening fire of the hearth, its flame no longer adequately heating the bottom of the pot. “I’m sworn to protect you,” he said. “As your knight.” He felt your soft gaze caressing his face like an invisible hand, though he tried to remain nonchalant as he poked at the fire. “If I let you get taken against your will, I’m not protecting you.”

That was almost amusing to you, as Daryl seemed to rarely care about performing his official knightly duties. When it came to you, though, he took his job quite seriously. In fact, you began to wonder if he cared more about protecting you than his own lord to whom he owed fealty. What he owed to you meant much more than mere feudalism, though. What he owed to you was his mind, body, and soul. 

“And I am sworn to protect my kingdom. If I run away, I am endangering my kingdom.”

That all being said, the idea of Daryl taking you far away from all your troubles was dangerously tempting, to the point that you forgot to breathe for a moment, until it came back to you in the form of a heavy swallowing of air.

“I do not want anyone else to die,” you continued. “I… certainly do not want you to die fighting for me, Daryl, though I am so very grateful for everything you’ve done for me. In truth, I don’t think I have ever felt as close to someone as I feel with you.”

There was more you wished to say, and it seemed as though Daryl had something on the tip of his tongue, but once again, he held himself back, despite every cell in his body screaming out to you professions of love and adoration that had only grown stronger with each passing moment he’d known you. With every way he’d begun to see you for who you were, he fell harder in love. With every angle of you he feasted upon with starving eyes that tore themselves away despite their hunger, he grew more desperate, more bereft of your warm, soft, supple body that he dreamed of cherishing and worshipping every waking moment of everyday. 

God, he couldn’t keep you from his mind, your presence overwhelming and intoxicating and mesmerizing, even in this moment when your voice spoke so innocently and with the dignity and poise of a princess. That’s what you were, he had to remember—a princess. He was a knight. He needed to know his place… Though it was becoming increasingly harder to do so.

With the heady air of silence meandering between you in the tiny hovel, Daryl concentrated on rousing the flame of the hearth, but there was nothing he could do to build it up again without collecting more firewood to fuel it. It was the perfect moment to excuse himself and go out to gather tinder while he collected himself, before he did or said something… improper. 

In fact, he swore that if he opened his mouth now, he’d wax poetic about all the sinful thoughts he’d tried to keep at bay. Only your voice stopped him from heading out without an explanation.

“Where are you going, knight?”

He palmed at his forehead with a huff, remembering that he was in a social situation, with a sacred woman he cared for too tenderly. He couldn’t just leave you without saying what he was doing, after all. 

“Hearth needs more tinder,” he spoke over his shoulder as he donned his black wool cloak. “I won’t be far, just at the splitting log right outside.”

“I shall stir the stew,” you said dutifully, rising elegantly from your seat, with delicate handfuls of your dress to lift it as you crossed to the hearth. 

“Don’t poison it,” the knight replied, to which you flashed him a smirk. 

“Why ever would I do such a thing? That would be foolish, anyway. I am going to eat the stew, too.” He turned to look your way. It was a mistake. He got lost in your face, your cheeks high and full with your smile, and your eyes sparkling with the reflection of the dying fire. “Hurry along, now,” you said, your voice low now, almost husky. “You mustn’t keep me waiting.”

You did not intend the phrase to sound… suggestive, but perhaps your emotions were beginning to cloud your better judgment, and now every word you spoke betrayed you. 

“I won’t,” he replied, a barely audible crack in his voice, though you chalked it up to his already raspy way of speaking. “Be right back.”

Before leaving, he took up the splitting maul he kept beside the door, a burst of cold from the spring night air chilling you for a moment as the door swung shut. Absent-mindedly, you found yourself studying the stew as you stirred it. You tilted your head in amused curiosity at the simple, yet appetizing, concoction. Whatever mix of herbs Daryl had thrown together had created a pleasant kind of aroma that filled the small one-room cottage with a comforting warmth.

A mischievous grin spread across your face as you thought to taste a bit of the stew before Daryl came back. Afterall, it couldn’t hurt to get a small sampling. Careful to get a little bit of everything in your spoonful, you purposefully sought out a large chunk of perfectly cooked-through venison. Raising the large wooden spoon to your pursed lips, you tasted the warm soup, letting it sit on your tongue for a few thoughtful moments as you attempted to study every flavor and texture. 

Though the stew was undoubtedly delicious, it was still missing something. You’d seen Daryl sprinkle several different herbs and spices, but it lacked the savory, peppery taste of one of your favorite herbs: sage. 

There was a tall wooden pantry across the room, where Daryl had stored most of his dry ingredients. You quickly crossed to the cabinet, your eyes looking back every few moments to keep an eye on the rolling boil of the stew. The pantry doors opened with a creak, you biting your lip and furrowing your brow as you scanned the dim shelves for the dried herb you sought. Daryl had an impressive selection of both culinary and medicinal ingredients, each jarred in their own glasses with a label of faded paper glued to its side, indicating the ingredients’ names. You’d pushed back several jars, all of which weren’t the dried sage you were looking for. 

He had everything—rosemary, saffron, ginger, grains of paradise, cloves, parsley, cinnamon, spikenard, alecost, thyme, southernwood… Everything but sage. “Good heavens, sage cannot be that difficult to come by, can it?” you spoke to yourself. “Sage… Sage…” You began to impatiently rearrange the jars, rereading each one a few times to ensure you weren’t going mad, though it began to feel like it. “How could he not have—”

You’d reached the back of the dusty old shelf, where no more pesky jars of spices and herbs could taunt you. Instead, a lone small chest of plain cedarwood sat undisturbed against the back wall of the cupboard. It wouldn’t have fazed you, as you’d most logically assume it was just another container for some special exotic spice, but what had silenced you and your mumbled self-ramblings was the chain of iridescent white pearls that poured out from the little chest, rendering the lid slightly ajar, but just open enough for your to catch a brief sparkle twinkling in the darkness. 

And those pearls… You recognized them.

They weren’t cheap freshwater pearls, the kind you could get from any silver-tongued peddler on the street in Alexandria’s market district. No, they were distinctive… Their luster and nearly perfect roundness betraying their expensive nature. Akoya pearls, you recalled the explorer saying. It was not long before the Scourge broke out, when you were just fifteen. The only jewels you had kept now were those inherited from your mother or family heirlooms. The pearls were beautiful, and they were important to you, but they were sacrifices you had made in the name of gratitude for the knight’s kindness.

You gave them to him, but under the impression that he’d sell them.

Why would he keep this?

But it wasn’t just one necklace, no. The faint glimmer of light from deep within the box enticed you, leading you to lift the lid, despite your high-society etiquette telling you that snooping around in other people’s things was hardly becoming behavior. You believed, though, that you had a right to see. That was once your necklace, after all.

There was more, just as you’d suspected. The box was brimming with a colorful assortment of precious jewels from your collection, all of which you’d had distinct memories of gifting to the knight after each excursion he’d accompanied you on. Pulling the box forward, you stared wide-eyed as you rummaged through, recognizing each and every piece—the pair of pearl and amethyst earrings, the ruby and silver brooch, the gilded ring of jade with an intricate claw setting, the red coral rosary given to you at your first Holy Communion, the repoussé chaplet set with refined diamonds and sapphires… Each trinket was unique, and undeniably yours. 

There were a few possible explanations you could think of. The first explanation, and the most logical, was that Sir Daryl was saving your jewels for a rainy day, intent on selling them all together for a larger sum. The second, and the most amusing to you, was that he was wearing the jewelry himself, and he was hiding them to spare himself the embarrassment. The third, and the most worrisome, was that there was a lady he was intent upon giving your jewelry to, or at least that he was keeping the jewels in the event that he would find a lady to woo. This thought made your heart race, but not in the way it usually did when the knight crossed your mind. 

But all these explanations were useless to you. There was no way of knowing now exactly why he kept your jewelry. Perhaps it meant nothing at all, but you couldn’t let it go. You needed to know, otherwise you’d never think clearly again. Without your sage, you replaced the chest and its contents to close the cupboard and return to the boiling pot, though not without a nervous pitter patter in your chest.

You were startled from your thoughts with a jump and a gasp when the knight kicked open the front door, a pile of freshly cut logs in his arms. He cursed himself for his lack of grace. 

“Y’all right?” he asked, keeping a concerned eye on you as he crossed to the hearth to prepare the fire. 

“Fine,” you replied with a nod. “Stew’s ready, I think.”

He furrowed his brow at that statement, then responded with a slight chuckle to his voice. “How do you know?”

“I tasted it,” you said. “It’s ready.”

“Yes, your highness,” he replied with a huff, amused by your certainty. 

At length, he procured two wooden bowls and two silver spoons, the both of you settling for casual seating in front of the hearth, sitting upon the floor cushions with criss-crossed legs and a strange silence between you. Silences like this were uncommon. Of course, whenever it was quiet between you, there was always this presence of heaviness, as though something needed to be said by one of you, or both, but right now, there was no comfort to it. Now, the weight had become so unbearable that there would be no comfort to this usually pleasant silence until one of you spoke. 

And it had to be you. You were the one who had seen the chest, who knew now that Daryl kept all those payments for whatever reason instead of cashing them in. You had to know why, there was no other way around it. 

You only hoped he wouldn’t resent you for it.

“Daryl?” You let your spoon clink against the side of the wooden bowl as you relished the recent aftertaste of the savory soup. “May I ask you something?”

He was hoping you would. He’d spent enough time with you, had known all your habits and quirks and idiosyncrasies, that he knew when there was something on your mind. Given the weight of this silence, it must’ve been important.

“Yeah.” He wiped his lips with the sleeve of his off-white chemise. You took extra care not to become distracted by the crop of pale brown, wiry chest hairs just barely visible at his loosely laced up collar.

Without even noticing, you licked your lips as you thought of what to say, hoping he wouldn’t be offended. Afterall, you’d gone snooping about in his pantry. Still, you believed you had a right to know.

To focus on your words, you set your near-empty bowl on the stone edge of the hearth. You straightened to sit up taller, your hands carefully folded in your lap. You looked like the picture of a princess, except in your eyes. They were downturned, as you couldn’t bear to look him in the eye in case your actions were misconstrued as mischief. “When you were out chopping wood,” you began with a small nervous croak in your voice, “I… Well, I tried the stew, as I said, but I thought it could use some sage, you see, and so I—I looked in your pantry.”

It was then that the knight began to choke on a chunk of venison, having swallowed it too soon with the realization that you could’ve seen his jewelry box, the one he hid because of his embarrassment to admit that he kept those jewels because they were yours. No practical reason at all, just the thought of you, something part of you belonging to him. It was silly, he knew that, but to him, there was a comfort in having those trinkets. If he’d sold them, all he’d have would be measly bits of dirty metal that had been in thousands of different hands and would be in a thousand more. Those jewels were worth more than that. They were once yours. As far as he was concerned, they were still yours. 

The man turned away from you, covering his mouth with the inside of his elbow as he coughed to help the meat pass down his throat. You leaned forward, reaching your hand out to touch his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled between his coughs. “Just… just…”

“Here,” you said, scooting closer to hand him a tankard of water. He waved you off, but he was still hunched over to the side and refusing to face you, both as a result of his embarrassment and his coughing fit. You huffed and spoke more harshly now. “Daryl.”

He knew that voice well enough now to know you were serious. He turned towards you slowly, taking the cup from your hands as he still sputtered our grunts between coughs. “Th—thanks.”

He choked a bit more on the water now, but only because he felt your hand soothing his back in slow, languid, yet careful, movements. “There…” Your voice was smooth and velvety, like sweet whipped cream. With each pass of your hand, you felt the silk fabric of his shirt pucker against your palm. The heat of his body drew you closer subconsciously, til you felt his strong, hard shoulder nearly digging into your chest. Despite your attempt to pull away, it felt too good to rid yourself of his closeness. “Better?”

With the delicate pressure of your hand caressing him, of course he felt better. He grunted in acknowledgement as he nodded, setting the tankard on the floor beside him. “Yeah… Please forgive me.”

You shook your head and laughed at that. “For what? Swallowing your food too fast?”

He felt like a blubbering fool, wiping his lips and chuckling under his breath to match your contagious giggles. But then, with a diminuendo of laughter, he realized he’d interrupted you, and he needed to know now what you were going to say, just in case you did see his hidden treasure. Well, your hidden treasure. 

“For interrupting you,” he said. “You were sayin’ something… D’ya find the sage?”

He knew full well there was no sage in that pantry. He’d run out just a few days prior.

“Oh,” you sighed. “Well, no, I…” 

You’d made the grave mistake of lifting your wide eyes to meet his, though the both of you were trying to hide your gaze from one another. It was inevitable that they would meet at some point this evening, but now that they had, you could not bear to look away, neither could he. For several moments, you could not even blink for fear of missing him and his deep, almost dark blue eyes, filled with the mystery of something nearly inscrutable, but not impossible to figure out. In fact, the more you looked, you swore you got closer to finding the answers to all the questions in his eyes. 

“Daryl,” you started again, this time holding his gaze with a nervous, fluttering blink of your curled eyelashes. “Why… Why have you not sold the jewelry I paid you with?”

There were many replies he could have made, but the only one that was remotely coherent was the one with the fewest number of words: Because I love you. 

Several heavy moments passed in silence, with only the crackling of the now roaring hearthfire filling the space where words might’ve existed if only he had the courage to speak without thinking first in this moment. This, however, was a delicate situation, and he could not face it with the usual impulsivity and carelessness that he might’ve had in other situations. 

There was a contradictory sense of both a need to profess his love to you and a need to brush it off with some lie, but how could he lie to you, his sweet princess? You were worth so much more than that to him, so much more than a paltry lie, but you were also worth more than every jewel in that box. 

“You, uh… You saw that?”

Your shoulders shrugged as you smiled bashfully. Daryl’s cheeks seemed to heat up, too. “I did. I know I had no right to look, but with the gold those jewels are worth, you could purchase your own manor and petition to become a lord. My father would happily grant you that position, I’m sure. You would not have to be a vassal. Of course, it is your property to do with as you wish, but I cannot help but wonder why.”

Titles and property were of no consequence to Daryl. They never meant much. He grew up with next to nothing, raised by poor merchants who struggled to buy a single loaf of bread. Perhaps one would think that growing up so poor would make him value money, but it was quite the opposite. It made him hate it, how it could make or break a man. No, what you gave to him was worth so much more.

“I—” He paused to think more thoroughly about what he was to say, but there was no way around it. He had to say it. “I couldn’t get rid of them. Couldn’t just give ‘em to somebody else.”

Though his words seemed sentimental, his eyes still strayed from you. Leaning forward, your heart aching with a desperate hope, you tried to coerce his eyes to meet yours. Your hand still traced invisible shapes across the broad expanse of his back. 

“Why?” You wondered if perhaps your secret fourth explanation had been correct. The more he stalled, you began to realize that it was. “Daryl…” Your other hand lifted cautiously, its movements foreign to you as your fingers delicately cradled his chin, then brought his head up until those soft, deep blue eyes greeted you. Perhaps you were torturing him, begging him to admit his feelings despite his fear, but you needed his words. That was all you’d need. You smiled to comfort him as you spoke. “Why could you not bear to sell my jewels?”

Your touch was in two places now—his back and his chin. Both points of contact were burning, a fire that spread through him and touched him in places he didn’t dare even think of at this moment. Your touch was innocent, it had to be. He wouldn’t let himself believe otherwise. His task was to keep you safe, to never let harm come your way. Indulging in his desires, no matter how much he wanted to, would only take advantage of the trust you and your father had in him. But, oh… The way your chest heaved against his shoulder. You were so close. So incredibly close. Almost as close as he’d imagined, in his darkened bedroom where his sordid thoughts took root. Even his dreams were full of visions of you, hazy and ethereal, like you were made of clouds. So soft, so warm.

“Daryl?” you pressed again. “Won’t you answer me, please?”

“It’s wrong,” he said quickly. “It’s all wrong.”

“No, it is not.”

“I just couldn’t… Couldn’t give part of you away.”

“Part of me?”

“Part of you,” he repeated. “Someone else, with a part of you… I can’t let anyone else have you. Those things belonged to you, so they’re precious to me. You’re precious to me.”

There. That was enough. Enough for you to know the truth, enough for you to lean even closer, your eyes nearly closed despite a sliver of vision focused on his lips, slightly agape and quivering. With your hand still holding his chin, you pulled him closer, too, his body and mind paralyzed for a moment, rendered helpless by you. 

But for a moment, when your lips were just an inch or two from his, you fluttered your eyes open to meet his. “My knight,” you whispered, the soft wind of your breath tickling his aching lips. “Kiss me.”

“I—I can’t.”

“Yes, you can…” Just like that, you spoke in your most regal tone of authority, the same you’d used to threaten to have Negan executed, though this time, a little more sultry. “I am your princess, and you will do as I say, knight.”

Yes, your highness. 

With a burst of desperation rising up in his abdomen, he leaned forward to close the gap between you, not just at your lips, but at every part of you. His hands grasped hard at your waist, pulling you nearly onto his lap. Your chest was pressed so tight against his that you gasped for breath from his mouth as he kissed you, heavy breaths exhaling from his nostrils like a wild animal just freed from its cage. 

You felt one hand wildly rise up your back and tangle in your hair, loosening the lone braid at the back of your head, until cascades of hair hung freely over your shoulders and back. Your hands had no choice but to cling tight to his shoulders as his hands explored you to the extent he would allow himself, though it felt so wonderful that you wished he’d unrestrain himself even more. Just when you started to think he was becoming more unhindered, his hand slowly melting down your lower back and inching closer to your bottom, he stopped himself.

His mouth tore away from you, the cold of the night air stinging your moistened lips as they trembled, and you felt your throat already begin to swallow back a lump. “What is it?”

His hands were still on you, but he panted as he looked worryingly at you, his head shaking as if to reprimand himself, though he couldn’t hide his blown out pupils and the increasingly noticeable hardness of his lap. Still, you feared he’d deny you. 

“I can’t control myself,” he said. “If we… kept goin’…”

“I want to keep going,” you said. Your hands moved to grasp at his shirt collar, where your fingers began to undo his lace. “I want whatever you would do.”

“You don’t know what you want,” he said. “You don’t want me, princess.”

“I do want you, knight.”

“You can’t. I can’t. If your father—”

“I love you.”

He fell silent. Scared. Not of your words, but of himself, of what hearing those words in your voice did to him. They ignited a deeper, inextinguishable fire. 

“Don’t say what ya don’t mean, milady.”

A single shiny tear glimmered as it rolled down your soft rouged cheek, settling into the corner of your mouth. You weren’t sure exactly why you began to cry. Perhaps it was the idea of rejection, or the thought of Sir Negan taking you away before promising yourself to the only man you’d ever cared for, but one thing was certain: your love for him was strong enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

“I do not say things I do not mean, Sir Daryl. When I say I love you, I am speaking from my heart, and my heart would not lead me astray. I love you, and that is the truth.”

And it was his truth, too. Now, your words were enough to convince him.

He lowered his eyes, his lips turned stern. It was an earnest, serious gaze. He said what he’d been thinking for months, what he would never stop thinking no matter what. He would always love you. He would always do anything for you. It was time he made it known. “I love you.”

It was simple when he said it, but you knew it to be true by the way his hands clung tighter to your waist. Hesitantly, he raised his right hand, allowing the back of it to caress your cheek. His touch was rough, but only because of his worn skin. The way he moved was soft, gentle, sweet. Even in his evident lust, he still touched you with the innocence of a white daisy’s petals brushing against your skin. 

Hesitantly, he let his lips ghost your other cheek as you exhaled a heavy breath against his neck. “Daryl,” you whispered. He kissed your skin, his lips spread open and tongue just barely stretching out to tickle you. As he moved his mouth lower, dragging sloppy kisses along your jawline, his arms wrapped fully around you, tugging you against him. Your hands held tight to his shoulder blades, and you felt them flex and jolt with each movement he made as his lips met yours again. This time, his tongue breached the entrance to your mouth, finding yours and almost attacking it. In your inexperience, you only gasped against his lips, then jutted out your own tongue in an attempt to keep up with him. 

“Daryl,” you panted between his kisses. He grunted under his breath, still indulging in your taste. With your fingers on his cheeks, you pulled back for a moment, looking into his darkened eyes. You’d never seen his eyes like that before. It almost frightened you, but mostly, it only made you realize exactly what you wanted. “I want you to take my maidenhead.”

Of course, he wanted to. It wasn’t a question of whether or not he wanted to, it was a question of whether or not he should, and he knew he shouldn’t. He knew such a thing was against his code, perhaps the most egregious way to break it. The law of chivalry held all knights to a certain standard, a law that governed their every action. Sleeping with the daughter of the king he served, much less taking her virginity, would certainly be cause for execution.

“I can’t,” he said, though his eyes portrayed another answer. “You know I can’t.” You shook your head, opening your mouth to latch onto his jawline, kissing him as he’d kissed you. He muttered your name, though he could not tear you away, your sweet lips wetting his skin as your hand combed through his hair. “It would…” 

Your hand lowered to his chest, grasping at his bare skin underneath his chemise. Your fingers seemed to tremble, your body not knowing what to do without his guidance. He grasped at your hand, though he did not push you away. He kept it there, keeping it steady. He turned to face your lips, and they trembled, too. To steady them, he raised his thumb to your plump bottom lip, moving it gently side to side. It felt like sacrilege to touch you like this, but it also felt like the most holy, sacred kind of worship. 

“It would be wrong. I’m not your husband. It would be against… Against my code of chivalry.” 

It nearly made you laugh. “You’ve already disobeyed my father and taken me outside the castle walls into walker-infested woods. You’ve done a hundred things that broke your code.” 

Leaning ever closer, you pressed your soft chest against his firm one, the heat rising between your bodies almost as strong as the roaring hearthfire that painted his face in rich, warm burnt oranges and browns. The smile on your face curled delicately as you brushed aside the curtains of his hair till they were pinned behind his ears. In this light, his face was both worn yet youthful, like an old painting of a young man. 

In a hushed, honeyed voice, you whispered against his cheek, “What’s one more?” Innocent lips coated with that floral musky balm grazed his stubbly cheek. It was not scratchy, though, it was soft and ticklish, like how your fingers felt on his chest.

For a long, torturous moment, he only held you close, his grip still tight on your waist. He leaned into your kiss, though he still was trying to cling to the last thread of chivalrous honor he had within him. That rope was threadbare, though, with only a fiber or two to hold on to, and the more your lips grazed his skin, trailing to his neck in clumsy, inexperienced movements, you felt his hand return to your hair to tangle itself in your now tousled locks. 

The low, dulcet moan escaping your lips marked the moment the tether snapped, and no longer could he say he had any respect for a code of conduct that left him bereft of your body and the pleasure he could give you, as your servant, your escort, your knight. 

With a throaty grunt, he took your mouth in his, devouring it much more deeply than he had before. There was no cautiousness now in his embrace, his hands lowering to cup both sides of your bottom as he lifted you more fully to his lap, with his legs outstretched underneath you. 

Both of you became engulfed in a tangle of limbs, furiously clawing at each other like you were both tearing at your own flesh to escape from its confines. Yourself now made taller than him as you sat upon his lap, you parted from his lips for a moment to look down at him, panting and lips shiny from your saliva, and made plump and red by his impassioned kiss. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, looking up at you with hazy, dark eyes. Indeed, you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever had the chance to behold. Sometimes, he did not even think himself worthy to utter your name, or to have his name uttered by you… You in your sweetness and kindness and sensitivity and grace and—

Your small laugh reawakened him. How dare he even begin to wax poetic about you in his own head when you were in his arms now, your hands on his shoulders and your chest heaving with each beautiful breath. To know you were so alive, warm and trembling in his strong arms, safe and protected… That was the greatest pleasure of all.

And yet, the carnal desire for you was quick to overwhelm him. He squeezed you tighter before leaning forward, taking you with him. “Mm!” you laughed against his lips as he kissed you. 

How he could be so gentle and yet so strong you did not know. With your back arched and your head cradled by his hands, you felt the support of your floor pillow underneath you, your legs now wrapped around his waist. 

Propping himself up by his arms to look at you, he gazed in awe, your hair sprawled out from your head in every which way like an angel’s halo made from a sunburst. Where your gown of sage green silk brocade met your breasts, he let his gaze linger. Finally. Without the worries of being improper, he could admire the gentle, supple curves of your décolletage. 

And now your gown sank down to your upper thighs, exposing much more skin than he’d ever seen—or felt. He sat up straight, his hand gently petting your soft bare calf, then moving down slowly, torturously, to touch your thigh. 

Never had you been touched like this. Not even by yourself. In fact, you felt rather foolish, stiffening a bit as your eyes widened the more he moved his hand, now lifting up the rest of your skirt.

“Daryl…” you all but whined, a moan somewhere between a begging lust and a nervous embarrassment. “I know nothing,” you said simply. “I—I—”

Your own gasp cut short your stuttering admission. “Oh.”

All you could feel was his hand cupping your mound, now completely exposed without the cover of your gown. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, each fold and crevice and speckling of your dainty hairs that matched perfectly the locks on your head. In fact, he ran his fingers through the little forest above your womanhood. It was soft, warm, untouched until now.

“You’re beautiful,” he spoke again. “Very… royal.”

“Royal?”

He laughed under his breath, biting his lip as he trailed his pointer finger around your lips, tickling you as you writhed a little. “Everything about you,” he said. “Even this… So perfect and clean and royal.”

Flushed with rose-tinted clouds of excitement and shyness, you rolled your shoulders as you watched him lick his pretty pink lips, over and over. “Have you seen many women like this, sir?”

He returned his gaze to yours with a raised, mischievous brow. Sir had never sounded so intoxicating as it did now. “None as sweet and virtuous as you.”

Indeed, he slightly feared his first movements towards intercourse. Never before had he taken a maiden’s virginity, and he was sure he’d hurt you if he was too hasty. He would have to tread carefully, though the subtle glisten of your entrance beckoned him, and those soft, intricate folds of supple flesh sparked a fire in him he’d never felt before. This was the image he’d dreamed of—your untouched womanhood naked before him, just waiting for him to release you from the bonds of chastity forevermore. 

And, oh, that moan, of which he had only gotten a sampling of. He needed more, he needed to be drowned in that sound. He needed to be the one who showed you the carnal pleasure of love, and to experience it himself, too. It would be the most potent kind of intimacy, and he wanted the both of you to be consumed by it. Together.

All he could think of, all he wanted to do, was get a mouthful of you. Drink from the fountain that was your body. 

“Can I… taste you?”

A genuine expression of innocent confusion spread across your face. “Kiss me?” Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips gently pursed, prepared to receive his sweet kiss.

“Nah, not like that,” he said, a subtle laugh under his low, gruff voice. Two calloused fingertips grazed the top junction of your lips, where an almost overwhelming tingle spread through you. Then, his fingers moved apart as they descended slowly, spreading you open. The reddish, taught flesh seemed to pulse on its own accord as your breath shuddered and your eyes widened at the strange feeling. “Here. I wanna taste you here.”

Finally understanding, and yet not understanding at all, you looked up at him with a furrowed look of concern. “Why? Is that not… unsanitary?”

An amused grin spread across his face. “Looks clean to me… They bathe you good, my princess.”

His princess. Oh, that sent an entirely new shiver through you.

But only with your permission would he do such a thing. Only with your word would he let his common tongue invade your royal maidenhead. 

So he’d beg for it, like he knew he should.

“Please,” he said, voice sweeter and softer than you’d ever heard. He even lowered himself, his lips hovering above your navel as he looked up at you with those crystal clear eyes. “Please, your highness… I will be gentle.” His hands held firm to your thighs, rubbing them softly, up and down. When his lips met your abdomen, just below your navel, you sighed unexpectedly, and he could feel your heat.

“I’ll beg for it.” The reverberations of his rough voice tickled your lower stomach. He dragged his lips progressively lower, to where the hairs upon your mound began. A trail of kisses began to form between each mumbled plea. 

“I’ll beg to taste you…” Kiss. “Lick you…” Kiss. “I’m beggin’…” Kiss. “Let me taste how perfect my sweet princess is.”

Though you were still puzzled by his desire to kiss you there, you decided to oblige, especially as the strange tickly feeling became more and more intense with each kiss he bestowed upon your mound. Somehow, his begging even excited you. 

“Yes,” you sighed. Blindly, you reached for him, your hands tangling in his chestnut colored hair, strands messy and wild. The ends of those locks tickled your skin as they hung around his face, dragging with each movement of his mouth downwards. “You may taste me… Though I do not understand why you want to, sir.” You laughed as you looked down at him, kissing the soft little hairs you always found to be unsightly, but it was not in vogue to shave, of course. At least, not for a lady of your status. He seemed to like it, though. “You are rather strange,” you teased. “Do you think I will taste nice?”

“Know you will,” he said, and you watched as he wetted his fingers with his tongue, then circled them over your now puffy lips. 

With a little gasp, you giggled girlishly at his touch. It was all so strange to you, but it felt nice. You’d had no idea this part of you was so sensitive, as you’d never bothered to touch it besides your daily baths. Even then, you hardly touched yourself only to clean, and when you felt an unfamiliar tingle as you’d slide your wet hand between those little folds of sensitive skin, you’d quickly pull away. All you knew of that part of you was that it was for your future husband, and you���d never cared much for trying to find one, especially since the world was the way it was. 

Now, you could only dream of a husband like him, the knight who lowered himself once more, slotting his head between your bare thighs. His hands holding them, he coerced your legs to spread wider, allowing that crevice to widen and open the small fleshy hole. He could already tell you’d never even touched yourself, your entrance half-obstructed by a small stretch of skin-colored tissue—your maidenhead.

He’d not touch that for now, instead only focused on slowly licking a stripe up your open slit, marking his first taste of you. 

There was a strong reverberation that jolted through you, causing your legs to flinch closed, Daryl’s head now sandwiched between the fat of your thighs. “Oh!” you cried out, back involuntarily arched against the cushion and hands tangled further in his hair until your fingernails clawed at his scalp. There was a muffled growl between your legs in response. At first, you assumed you’d hurt him. “Oh, I—I am sorry, my love…” you sputtered, almost with a nervous laugh at your sensitivity, and massaging his scalp more gently now. “Did I hurt you?”

On the contrary, your scratching and pulling and squeezing only excited him. He did not answer your question, only pressing his face harder against you, smothering his nose and mouth between your folds, wettened by his saliva. If he suffocated between your legs, he’d die happy, as the taste was intoxicating, sweeter than the finest honey wine he’d ever had, and the feeling a more lovely warmth than the hearth that illuminated the dim cottage with that dreamy glow. 

With a renewed lust, he moved his head wildly, licking up and down and swirling in tight circles round the bundle of nerves above the entrance. It seemed to elicit the most beautiful moans and gasps and sighs from your pretty mouth, of which he often took a glimpse when he raised his eyes to admire your innocent beauty. 

And though he could lick you like this for hours on end, he’d grown desperate to taste you deeper, just a little. So he parted your legs with a jolt. “Keep ‘em open,” he ordered, voice more hoarse and throaty and deep than before. His desire was becoming more urgent, more primitive as the very last of his decency was chiseled away by his need. “I want more of this pretty cunt.”

You nearly gasped at the vulgar word, having only heard it once or twice in your presence—both times from a slightly inebriated Lady Margaret, who used it to pejoratively refer to Lady Caroline behind her back, but now you knew where it came from. It sounded devilishly dulcet on his low, panting voice. 

Legs spread further apart, he caught another glimpse of that hole, coated in a sparkling sheen that was damp to the touch. The corner of his lip lifted slightly as he spoke. “You’re gettin’ wet,” he said, much to your confusion. “D’ya like what I’m doin’ to you, princess?”

“Y-yes,” you stuttered. His fingertip traced the rim of your wet entrance. 

Before he dove down once more, he couldn’t help but just admire the beauty of your womanhood with his eyes. He felt a sudden wave of unworthiness well up in him. After all, this sight was never for him. It was forbidden, and yet, you’d decided he was worthy to have you. 

You, his lady, his mistress, his princess, his queen. In every sense of the word, you ruled him, and he had no choice but to bask in the glory of your trembling body, every inch perfect and unique and, soon, his. 

He’d make you his, but first he had to make him yours. 

“Oh!” His lips spread open wide to envelope the hole, where his tongue flattened out to lick at the source of your arousal. All you could feel was his long tongue poking inside you, wiggling to adjust to how small the entrance was. 

Meanwhile, the tip of his soft button nose pressed up against your most sensitive spot, where a fresh tingle surged through you. To get a better angle, he slid both hands underneath your bare rump, pulling your body closer and angling your core upwards as your legs found their home upon his shoulders, just the perfect width to accommodate your thighs.

“That’s it,” he spoke against your inner thigh, where he left a series of frantic, desperate little kisses. They weren’t just lustful, but affectionate, as though he was bestowing these kisses to reward you for your obedience. “Sweet royal cunt.”

That word again made you flinch, or perhaps it was the suction of his lips around that bundle of nerves that pleased you so.

“Y-you’re so vulgar,” you sighed with a gentle laugh rolling under your voice. “Where… is my gallant knight?” 

“Between your pretty legs, milady.”

His tongue wiggled in spastic movements between his lips, reddening and engorging the sensitive spot as a strange tightening feeling formed in your lower belly. Unbeknownst to you, the walls of your passage squeezed involuntarily around the empty space inside you. In this moment, you never felt more empty, in fact. All you wanted, the longer his mouth devoured you, was to somehow feel whole. 

“Please!” you cried out, voice strained and high-pitched with a desperate plea for him to satisfy you, somehow. You did not know how, but you needed it, whatever it was. “Oh, I…”

The knight knew what you needed, and he needed it, too, but you were so close to ultimate pleasure. The wetter you became, the more of his saliva that soaked into your crevices and your increasingly gaping entrance, the more your body would accept his. That much he knew.

But the feeling was so powerful, so overwhelming. Each burst of pleasure erupted within you, like a volcano that had lain dormant for a millenia or two, and only now was that red hot magma spewing forth, until one final eruption would leave you satisfied. It terrified you. Was this normal? Surely a woman should not feel such euphoria. All you’d known of your womb was the pain and shame of that period in which blood would flow from you. You’d been told it was divine punishment for women. Eve’s betrayal, the fall of Eden… Why should you pay for that? Now, there was only pleasure, no pain. 

The pleasure, though, was so intense, so frightful, that you panicked, your thighs clenching tight round his head once more as your back arched in agonizing bliss, his tongue now thrusting into you again. “Oh!” you cried out. “I… Wh-what… Daryl, I’m frightened!”

His eyes flashed up to look at you. “What is it?” he asked. He tore himself away from you, while his hand reached up to cradle your trembling cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I…” Gasping for air, you writhed and wriggled underneath him, squeezing your thighs together as if to provide some relief. “I do not know… I feel so strange.”

Tears trickled down your cheek, and the knight’s brows furrowed in concern. He brushed a few away with his fingers. “Why’re ya cryin’, girl?”

And you knew now why, as your hips gyrated and bucked up towards him, as if demanding for him to return to you. The sensation was just so strong, but so lovely. “Please,” you whimpered. “Do not stop.”

Now he knew, too. A laugh forced his mouth into a wide grin. “Oh, I see,” he said, hands moving achingly slowly back down to your thighs. He spread them apart again, a feeling which made your breath hitch for a moment. “Feels good, doesn’t it? My tongue…”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Please, more.”

And so he gave you more, his mouth quickly returning to that puffy, reddened flesh between your thighs, eliciting from you a visceral moan as your head fell back against the cushion. “Ah!” you cried out.

After the brief period in which he’d separated from you, you now felt the sensation returning, this time even more intense. Sounds of wet flesh being licked and sucked and kissed surrounded you, accompanied by soft, muffled groans from your knight. 

How he’d wanted this for so long, to have your taste and to feel your restless, writhing body involuntarily grinding against his tongue. For a moment, he pulled your outer lips further apart, allowing more direct exposure to the now throbbing, swollen protrusion that gave you so much pleasure. He sucked at that flesh again, this time bringing his finger to the hole that begged to be filled. 

“Oh, oh!” His finger breached the entrance, just a few centimeters, but enough to stretch you more than you’d been stretched open ever before. “My god!”

“Come,” his voice murmured between furious sucking. “Come, my princess. I want you to come.”

“C-come… Where?”

“On my face,” he laughed. 

“Wh-what… are you… talking about?”

The vibration of his laughter tickled your flesh. “You’re too innocent,” he said. “You’ll see what I mean.”

He knew you must be close, so it did not take much more effort to get you to the brink of orgasm. All he needed to do was curl his finger upwards inside you as he swirled his tongue with more pressure, practically digging a brand new hole with the tip of his tongue. 

And, with your hands shooting out to claw at his shoulders, the tingling and tightening and tickling finally reached its peak as the feeling of the final, strongest eruption came forth, exploding from the pit of your abdomen and spreading throughout every cell in your hot, squirming body. 

Moans of his name were falling softly, repeatedly from your lips, where bite marks had embedded themselves after several minutes of your teeth digging into the skin. He’d never heard his name being spoken so much, so sweetly and with so much bliss. After all, it was the name of the person who’d given you the greatest feeling you’d ever experienced. 

You were left jolting, your body gently rocking up against his face, which was still buried between your lips as his tongue gathered every drop of the arousal that slowly dripped from you. His own arousal caught up with him, too, a noticeable feeling of a strain, and a tightening in his chausses. 

Panting and moaning under your labored breaths, you felt the pleasure begin to die down as his lips praised you with small kisses all over the outside of your pulsing entrance. Deviously, he stuck his tongue out to deliver short, sweet licks to your still throbbing bundle of nerves. 

A soft, delirious giggle erupted from your lips as your fingers tangled in his disheveled hair. All you could see was his head bobbing between your legs, and all you could hear was the crackle of the hearthfire and the sounds of his pursed lips kissing your wet folds. Feeling his finger curling at the shallow part of you, you squeezed on purpose, much to his amusement. 

“I feel ya,” he mumbled. “You feel so good.”

“Daryl.” Your hands grasped both sides of his head with some pressure, as if to pull him up. “Come here.”

He let you guide his head until his lips met yours and your arms wrapped loosely around his neck, weighing him down. His body weight covered you completely, a sensation which excited him even more. 

On your lips, you tasted yourself, his tongue and lips now coated with your arousal. “What did you do to me?” you asked between his kiss. “Your tongue is magical… Some kind of wicked sorcery.”

His laughter tickled your cheek as he kissed you there. “I jus’ made ya come,” he said simply. “S’why you’re so wet down there now. Got you all ready.” His hands raised up to tug on the collar of your dress, as if trying to yank it off you.

“Ready for what?” you laughed, though you had a few ideas of what he could be referring to, as innocent as you were, but you hadn’t heard the word he’d said next before. 

“For my cock.”

In genuine confusion, you furrowed your brow. “You have a rooster?”

“Yeah.” The mischievous, lop-sided smirk on his face as his finger traced your jawline told you he was messing with you. “I’ve got a big, red rooster.”

“Oh?” you said, playing along with him despite your ignorance. “Well, won’t you introduce me to your rooster?”

By now, you knew what he meant.

When he dragged your hand down to his clothed erection, a deep blush bloomed upon your cheeks. “Oh,” you sighed. “Hello, rooster.”

To say you hadn’t thought of it before would be a lie. Of course you had. While you did not know much about sex, or that part of the male anatomy, you knew that part of a man was meant for that complimentary part of a woman. You knew that was the part of him that would put a child in your womb, though you knew not the exact details of the whole ordeal. 

Interrupting your thoughts of his “rooster,” you were suddenly lifted from the ground and tangled in his arms, with your feet dangling off the ground as he dragged you towards the hay-stuffed mattress you’d rested upon a few times before. You exclaimed a laughing, “Daryl!” before being laid gently, yet almost impatiently, upon the bed. 

You propped yourself up on your elbows to see him at the foot of the bed, lifting his shirt above his head as he panted. 

Eyes wide, you felt your heart thump in your chest when his broad frame was bare before you, his chest just as bulky and strong and wide as you’d imagined. Your eyes were drawn to the charming smattering of little hairs, and the small pink nipples that hardened against the air. 

You couldn’t help but follow the trail of those same hairs that began at his navel and led down to the waistband of his pants, which he began to untie frantically. Meanwhile, your mouth fell agape at the shape of his… cock, you supposed it was called—so big it looked like it could rip through the cotton of his chausses at any second. 

Involuntarily, your thighs rubbed themselves together, where you could now feel your own wetness seeping from you. Seeing the size of his cock, now you knew why you’d need to be wet.

Just like that, he was naked, his cock springing up as soon as he pulled his pants down enough. It nearly startled you, almost eliciting a gasp. Never had you seen something so… odd. You couldn’t even wrap your head around the testicles just yet. 

But he left you hardly any time to think about the new body parts you were faced with. Instead, he laid himself down on his side next to you, his hands rubbing up and down your arms. The motion soothed you, though his dark, lusty stare made you shiver.

“Sit up for me,” he said. You did as he told you, as an unspoken dynamic had appeared: he would lead you, as you were much too inexperienced to know your way around this territory.

And yet, he was not forceful, nor domineering. Indeed, he knew you were still his princess, his ruler. He knew that you held the utmost power over him, and that whatever you’d say, he would have to do it. There was no mistake of who was ultimately in charge, whose body he was compelled to worship and please. Still, he’d lead you physically. 

Now sitting up, he scooted back to unlace the back of your gown, each silk knot coming undone with a beautiful cascade of fabric, until your back was nude, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your spine.

He pulled on your sleeves gently, but with a noticeable waning of his patience. “Lay back now,” he said. Like a mindless servant, you obeyed him. 

Your surcoat was loose enough to pull off you now, so he did, letting the expensive garment sink to the floor. Now, your kirtle, which he pulled over your head, manipulating your body like a rag doll. With each movement he made, another sweaty, glistening muscle flexed under that tan, workworn skin, stretching across which were many faded scars from battles and jousts and God only knew what else. 

Lastly, your chemise kept him from your supple nude body, so he pulled it off with a slight growl under his breath. Now, you laid back fully, your completely divested skin meeting the thick, buttery soft pelt of the fur blanket beneath you. 

Your body was a sight to behold, so marvelous that he stood up again, stepping back to let his eyes roam all over you. 

It was enough to bring him to knees, literally. He sunk to the floor, where he attached his lips to your ankle, which had caused him some trouble in the past. The many times he’d caught sight of your ankle, he felt perverted, sinful. Then your calf, soft and smooth against his lips. He covered as much skin as he could in his kisses, then he reached your knee, and your thighs, where he spread apart your legs to leave more kisses at your womanhood.

“You’re insatiable,” you laughed, watching as his lips trailed through the hairs on your mound. “You cannot kiss every part of my body, sir.”

“I can try.”

His tongue circled around your navel, then he continued his kisses to the slope of your left breast, where he quickly latched to your nipple, causing you to flinch at the new feeling. 

His other hand found your other breast, squeezing it just enough to make you gasp a little. After all, with his lips and hands worshiping your entire body, you weren’t sure how else to react. 

“You’re so perfect,” he mumbled against the pillowy surface of your breast. “I’d die for you.”

Even the thought made you shiver and cling to his flexing shoulder blades. “N-no, my love… Do not say such a thing. My… my heart c-could not bear to even think of it.”

“I’d kill for you,” he said now. “I’ll do anythin’ you ask of me… I belong to you.”

As you processed his pledge, you hadn’t even noticed two of his fingers digging into your entrance, spreading you open, little by little. His sweet, raspy voice soothed the pain. 

Now, his lips trailed to your collarbones, where he left dozens of kisses and licks across your skin. 

“I live to serve you,” he whispered. You gasped, not at his words, but at his two thick fingers going deeper, a sound of flesh upon wet flesh. “Only you… My sweet princess.”

“Oh, my sweet knight… Ah…”

A slight tearing feeling at your entrance made you wince in pain, but the knight paused for a moment, nudging his nose against your cheek to get your attention. 

“Am I hurtin’ ya?”

“No, no.” If he stopped, you might die of emptiness. The stretching hurt, but you could not go much longer without him filling the emptiness within you. Once he started, you wouldn’t be able to be without him. 

“Need to stretch your cunt a little,” he said. “My cock’s gonna hurt ya more if I don’t.”

Judging by the size, you believed him. Your eyes were transfixed on the thing as you wondered how in the world he’d get it in your tight hole, but you trusted him to take care of you. 

And you wanted it. You couldn’t explain it, but your need for that big length of flesh, with engorged veins and a droplet or two of clear liquid beading at its reddened tip, was greater than any pain you might’ve felt. 

“I want it, sir,” you practically purred. “Your…”

He smiled against the cheek he was busy kissing. “My rooster?”

“Your cock.” 

He tore his lips away to give you a wide-eyed stare as he tried to fake a serious look of shock, but the upturned corner of his snickering lips betrayed him. 

“Your highness,” he scolded in jest. “Where’d ya learn such a dirty word?” His fingers inched deeper, so deep that your back arched as you laughed a visceral moan. 

“Oh, you scoundrel!” Your hand delivered a very weak slap to his chest.

Pulling his fingers out, he laughed as his hands gripped both of your wrists. His face turned serious, yet still soft. “You think you’re ready for my cock?”

“Yes, but… I mustn’t have your child now.”

You weren’t totally unaware of the true purpose of sex. In fact, it had been drilled into your head by archbishop Gabriel, whose responsibility seemed to be deterring you and all other maidens at court from engaging in premarital sex that was not for the express purpose of procreation, as such an act would brand one “a whore in the eyes of God.” Conveniently, the archbishop’s sermon had overlooked any consequences for men.

“You won’t,” he assured you. Indeed, he had intimate knowledge of one of the world’s most time-honored methods of contraception: coitus interruptus. “I’ll be careful.”

Removing his fingers from you, he rubbed his palm up and down your slit, spreading the wetness of your arousal all over you. He leaned back for a moment, looking down to spread apart your lips and see your hole, which opened quite a bit wider now for him. Redness pooled around the opening, but you couldn’t notice the dull pain, not when his eyes held yours so intently. “Think you’re ready,” he said. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Don’t stop. “All right, my love.”

The hard, spongy surface of his tip grazed over your clit, and slid with his body as he rolled forward over you. “You ready?”

At this point, the suspense was killing you. Each drag of his length through your sodden flesh was agonizing. Your body grew restless, arching your back up to meet his chest and pull him down. “Yes,” you sighed, then ghosted your lips over his. “Make me yours now. I want to be yours.”

He eased himself in as your mouth latched to his, your whimpers of combined pain and pleasure melting into his kiss. The tip was inside you now, just beginning to stretch you further to meet the wide girth of his thick cock. The slow, tearing feeling was enough to make you bite down on his tongue, nearly drawing blood. He only growled into your mouth, digging his cock deeper.

Your suffocating tightness tested his willpower, his ability to keep himself from moving so fast that he’d lose control of his cock, but it felt so good, so warm and snug. As he sank further into you, he tore his lips free to whisper against your ear, “How ya feel?”

With a deep swallow, you held back your tears. “Fine,” you said. “Just… it hurts a little. Does it fit?”

He looked between your bodies, where half his length was inside you, the other half twitching with bulging veins and redness only darkening. He stayed still, brushing back your tears as you sniffled. “Yeah, it’ll fit. You just need stretched, s’all.”

He pushed himself in a little further as his lips caught another tear. Clawing at his back, you let out a sharp gasp. “Oh! Daryl! It’s too big, you’re too big… I can’t…”

His hand reached down to tickle his fingers against your clit, attempting to ease your pain by giving you more pleasure. He knew his cock would hurt you before it felt good. “Sh… sh… D’ya want me to stop, princess?”

“No, no!” you cried out, nearly startling him. He felt your arms tighten round his back, as if to keep him exactly where he was. “Please don’t stop. I—I…” Tears trickled down more now, like a torrential rain over your cheek. 

He stopped again, this time pulling himself out a little to prop himself up and look at you with the utmost earnestness. “Why are ya cryin’ now? I don’t wanna make you cry. Am I hurtin’ you too much?”

In truth, the physical pain of being stretched by him was not strong enough to elicit these tears. What made you cry, in fact, was the simple truth that tonight, you’d give yourself to your true love, but in a matter of days, Sir Negan would take you away from him, and you might never see him, or your father, or anyone else you loved, ever again. 

To think you may never be here, like this, with him again… It broke your heart, though every cell in your body was demanding for another burst of euphoria. It was all too much emotion, too much stimulation. And yet, you’d never want him to stop. You’d like to be this way forever, if you could. If only you could.

“It’s just… Promise me…”

Furrowed brows contorted his face. He brushed the back of his hand over your cheek. “Promise ya what?” He wasn’t sure of the point of asking, as he knew that he would promise you, his lady, anything anyway. A knight’s ultimate test of chivalry, afterall, was his undying, unyielding, uncompromising devotion to his lady. 

“Promise you won’t forget me.” When Negan takes me, you wanted to say, but you hesitated to even mention him at this moment, when the only man who really mattered to you was looking at you with his own tears beginning to well in his cunning blue eyes.

“I could never, ever forget you, milady.”

And he knew now what you meant. He knew the fear in your eyes, the same fear from the other night. He could feel this fear inside him, too. The fear of never seeing you again, of you being trapped in a place you could not escape from, not unlike how you’d been trapped in your own castle. Yet, this would be so much worse, for you’d be chained to that wretched, evil man, who would do God knows what to you. 

But those thoughts were poisonous. “Don’t think about that now… Just feel me.” So he came into you again, just as far as he’d gotten before. “That’s it… Can you take more?”

That was all you wanted, actually. More. All you needed was him, filling you as deep as possible, taking you over and marking you as his. You’d never be Negan’s now, and that gave you a sense of power, a relief in knowing that there was at least one thing Negan could never take from you—your chastity. 

“More, Daryl. Please.”

By now, he was almost all the way inside you, but he could go no further, for his own fear of hurting you too much. He pulled out a bit then, to which you grasped at his shoulders and pulled him back against you. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” he laughed. “I’m just movin’. Calm down, you’re all rigid. Ease up.” Taking his words to heart, you let out a deep breath and relaxed your muscles, allowing you to settle more comfortably into the plush fur underneath you. Slowly, he pushed himself back in, your body welcoming him in with the hug of your slick tightness. “There ya go… Look, your cunt’s already gettin’ used to me. You’re takin’ it good.”

So good, in fact, that you couldn’t help but smile at the feeling—the warmth, the hardness, the fullness… The feeling of his cock sliding back and forth, but never completely leaving you. The sensation was beautiful, far more intimate than anything you’d ever imagined. When he lowered himself down again, his chest laid snug against yours, the feeling of his nipples rubbing yours hard and slow the more he thrusted. As if on their own accord, your legs loosened to lift and wrap around his lower back, taking him in just a little further. There was pain again, but not enough to hurt you. It only felt good.

He had to be careful not to move too fast, though the involuntary squeezing of your walls drew him closer to his breaking point. He could feel both your arousal and his, surrounding him inside you. But he had to make you come again, he thought. He needed to know that his cock had pleased his princess just as much as his tongue. 

Your soft, whimpering moans made it clear that he was, indeed, pleasing you, your tearing pain having given way to that tingling feeling again, making your writhe and shiver underneath him.

“Daryl,” you panted. Spurred on by your pulsing body, his movements became faster, more sloppy, more passionate. Now you could really feel his size, his length digging into a particular spot that made you roll your head back against his pillow, your lips trembling and gasping for air as you spoke. “Oh, it feels so… Yes, my love, my knight… You’re so big.”

“Princess… I feel your cunt squeezing me.”

“Oh, I—I am s-sorry.”

He huffed a laugh against your cheek. “Feels good,” he said. “Keep squeezin’ me.”

He pressed a firm kiss to your cheek as his hips thrusted non-stop, now molding you to fit his cock perfectly, forever. Well, for however long you had left together. 

“God, you’re soakin’ me,” he said, his voice nearly drowned out by the sound of wet skin on skin. 

Your well-trained manners urged you to apologize again, but the sensation of his cock hitting into you was enough to render you speechless, except for the breathless sighs and sultry moans escaping your lips as you clawed at his shoulders, fingernails digging into his scarred flesh to nearly break open new wounds. 

He continued on for a while now, though you could not tell how long he’d been thrusting, you only knew you were drowned by his mouth, his lips finding every part of your skin that he could reach in this position and leaving sloppy trails of open-mouthed kisses. That tightening and tingling within you strengthened with each movement he made, each thrust reminding you of how deep inside you he was, and how strong he was, his body weight driving the force of each hard, deep stroke. 

Only when your moans had faded into heaving breaths and your body had loosened into jelly did he speak to you again, though not stopping his thrusts, as he couldn’t bring himself to even think about stopping now. 

“Hey, sweetheart? You all right?”

You were hardly responsive, only opening half-lidded eyes to gape at his reddened, sweat-dripping face. His chestnut hair hung wildly, tickling your cheeks, though all you could feel was the pounding, the swelling of his cock inside you, the growing sensation of that volcano about to erupt again. 

“H-hey.” You felt his hand cup your cheek as he said your name, his own voice shaky and stuttering as he began to lose his ability to keep himself in control. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, only now, they were those same tears of overwhelming, astounding satisfaction. 

Stimulated to the point of near-catatonia, you were released by a sudden wave of vibrations that surged through you like electricity, bringing you back to life. Your legs clenched tight around his waist as your head shot back, exposing your strained neck. His lips did not spare you in your moaning, crying state. They attacked your neck as you pulsed all around his cock and grinded up against his pelvis by instinct. He held his hips still now, though, letting you ride the multiple waves of your intense orgasm until you shook like a leaf in a cool autumn wind beneath his strong, stabilizing body which your hands clung to desperately.

“Oh, Jesus!” was all you muster. You’d never said the Lord’s name in vain as many times as you had that night. Granted, you had never said the Lord’s name in vain before. “Christ!” Surely, you would be going to Hell. 

“Shit,” the knight muttered into the crook of your neck. “I—I’m…”

Ears pounding with the sound of your heart, you could not process a word he said. You could only allow your glassy eyes to roll back as your lips formed a delirious, open-mouthed smile. “Oh, Daryl.” 

He propped himself up on his bulky arms, dripping with sweat and bulging with flexed, aching muscles. As if to soothe them, you ran your hands up towards his biceps, holding onto them for dear life as he began thrusting again, almost completely inside of you. 

All you could do now was smile up at him, murmuring his name, interspersed with declarations of your love and breathy moans that tortured him the closer he came to releasing himself. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he panted. “You’re mine.”

“Yes,” you agreed. “Yes, yours. Forever.”

“Mine.”

With an almost helpless groan, he pulled himself completely from you, sinking down on his arms to press against you, but with his cock angled to release on your heavy stomach. Though you missed the feeling of him inside you, you moaned at the feeling of warmth near your navel, where he spilled himself onto you. 

Curiosity overcame you as you looked between your bodies, watching his strange… attachment release a silky, cloudy white liquid in spurts. For a moment, your eyes widened in slight fear. Truly, you had absolutely no idea what was happening. For all you knew, he’d suddenly contracted some strange disease that caused his cock to leak a new humor.

“Wh-what is… Daryl, are you all right?”

Once again, he laughed at your innocence. “I’m just fine… Better than fine,” he said, sinking down into a deep kiss. He only parted from them for a moment to say, “That’s s’posed to happen. Did they not teach you anythin’ about sex?”

“Th-they said…” You laughed at your lack of breath. “They said my husband would show me.”

He sighed as he lifted himself off you, then rolled over onto his side. With a huff, he yanked the fur-lined blanket from underneath you, then draped it over himself and you, much to your relief, as it was cold without his naked body on top of yours. 

“Your father,” he began to say, wrapping an arm around your rather limp, flimsy body to pull you close, “he wanted ya to marry my lord, didn’t he?”

A puzzled look contorted your face. “How did you know?”

“He tells me everythin’.” The touch of his calloused fingers tickled your hairline as he brushed back your bangs. “Told me the king brought us here because he thought Richard would make a good husband for you… Why didn’t you want him?”

Duke Richard hadn’t crossed your mind much since that night he first arrived, though you never thought too much about why exactly he did not attract you as much as Sir Daryl did. Now, it was quite clear. 

“Because he isn’t you, my love.” A laugh escaped your lips as you settled your hand upon his chest, twisting your fingers between the hairs that intrigued you so. “The duke is… He is a good man, but you are better. That is all.”

A rosy blush blossomed on his cheeks as his mouth curled with a lopsided smile. You admired the lines in his face, the crows feet and tired bags around his adoring eyes. “He would’ve made a good husband for you.”

“Mm, perhaps.” Your pointer finger traced lines over his sharp collarbone. “Lady Michonne is rather fond of him, though. I think they make a lovely couple. Besides, my heart does not belong to him. It belongs to you.”

Shaking his head, he offered you a somber smile. “You know you can’t marry me, even if Negan didn’t want you. I’d be killed.”

“My father would not kill you.”

“You don’t know that for sure. If he… if he knew that I took you outside the walls, let alone that we—”

“We could go somewhere, someday.”

Your name fell on his lips, but you interrupted him again. “Negan will take me, I know I cannot escape that, but someday, when Alexandria is strong enough, you can find me, and we’ll go away, somewhere you’ve been on your travels. My father would understand. We could be together, we could marry. Someday.”

But you knew it was a pipe dream. You knew that, if it could ever happen, it would happen so long from now, and you could not leave your father without him knowing you were all right. It seemed as though there was nothing to stop the world from caving in. For someone who had so much power by birth, you felt so powerless, the most powerless you’d ever felt in your whole life. That was saying something, as you never truly felt in control of your own destiny. You never thought it could get worse, until now.

“You know I won’t let him take you,” he said. “Maybe we can be together like that someday, but right now, all I care about is you, not me and you.”

“But… I care about you.”

And for the first time in his life, he believed those words.

“I know you do.” Upon your forehead, he placed a chaste kiss. “Ya know, once a knight gives his heart to a lady, he can never give it to anyone else, and he’s bound to her forever.”

Of course you knew that. There wasn’t much about knights you didn’t know. If only you had as much knowledge of human sexuality as you did of knighthood, but alas. 

“Does that mean you will marry me one day?”

His eyes narrowed in playful suspicion as he pretended to think it over, mumbling a pensive, “Hm…”

“Sir Daryl,” you teased, “if you do not agree to marry me, I will send you to the stocks.” 

“Your highness,” he said, his arms pulling you in closer to his chest, “I promise myself to you.”

“And I, you… My sweet, brave knight.”

That evening, you did not return to the castle until the sun began to rise again. Sleeping on a straw-stuffed bed was quite the adjustment from your feather-stuffed one, but he did not let go of you, not even in his sleep, and that made all the difference to you.

Despite the uncertainty that loomed in the air all around you, the fear that settled in your heart from the moment you realized you might never see Daryl again, you had a strange, persistent sense that, someday, every night could be like this one.

Someday, you repeated in your head, lulling yourself to sleep in his arms. 

But that was the future, and this was now. Now, you knew only one thing to be perfectly, virtuously true: you were his, just as he was yours.

Through life, and after death.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

[decepticononline]

TFP Knockout X Breakdown “Tell me you need me.”

This is a secret santa gift for a discord server I am in, dedicated directly to @neonhoneycomb ! Merry Christmas 🎄 I enjoyed writing this!

Warnings: NSFW, size kink, medical gore, angst, spike comparison, squirting.

The hologram target fizzled out of a view, which caused the ex-wrecker to growl in frustration. His rapid vents exhausted one after another as he retracted his blaster in defeat. He'd been in the training room for almost the whole cycle to work on his shooting aim now that he was… impaired. His non functional optic made all forms of combat almost impossible. He couldn't make a clear shot to save his own aft, let alone his partner's. 

Before Breakdown could exit the armoy room, his comm system loudly pinged. A slew of cybertronian curses fell past his dermas when he saw the comm was from Knockout. That indicated to him that he had been absent from the med-bay for far too long. 

“Need something?” With a nonchalant tone in his voice, the navy blue deception tried to play off the situation. It wouldn't work, but there was a 99% chance that if he didn't sound like he was doing anything wrong, then maybe he wasn't.

“Do I need something?! Great question because what I need is some assistance in the med-bay.” Even without seeing Knockout's face plate, it was obvious the mech was highly irritated.

 “Got it. I'll be there in a-” The comm ended abruptly, and Breakdown's singular beaming yellow optic rolled in its socket. Over the comm Knockout had sounded like he'd blown a few and a half gaskets since he'd been gone, and that made him much more resilient to take any longer to return.

Upon heading towards the med-bay, the mech passed by two badly cauterized vehicon drones, one of them still leaking energon onto the deck plates of the ship. Knockout must have been too busy to repair him correctly, but it didn't look severe, so the vehicon could walk it off… eventually. 

Two red glaring optics followed the ex-wrecker's movements as he entered the med-bay. If looks could kill, Knockout would surely be vaporizing him with just his vision right about now. The red medic didn't offer a greeting nor a chastising remark as his silence was more than enough to do the trick. 

“Sorry, got carried away in the armory.”

Knockout still said nothing while he cauterized a gaping wound in the shoulder-plate of another vehicon. He took his time with this one as the injury was fairly deep into the cybernetic metal. Knockout gestured to the data pad on the medical berth, without saying a word Breakdown knew he wanted him to start logging in the Vehicon’s credentials for an injury report. On his way to the opposite medical berth, the ex-wrecker let a servo graze against his partner's hip strut.

“Don't you dare start.”, a deep chuckle rumbled within Breakdown’s chassis as he tried to calm his highly displeased lover. The reaction Knockout gave him didn't make him feel any less determined with his goal. 

“I need a set of sharp pliers. There's a bullet fragment still in here.” Knockout's digit inched into the deep cavern of wound the vehicon drone shuddered with pain. The sensitive protoform within his shoulder-plate was exposed, and leaving the fragment in there would never let the gouge heal properly. 

“You know I'll give you whatever you need.”

“How about you drop it?” 

"How about you hold it."

Knockout's red optics widened, and he debated on whether or not he should hurl the cauterizing scalpel at the larger mech. “Enough!” The red medic said with a hiss before snatching the pliers out of his partner's servos.

After removing the plasma bullet fragment and completing the cauterization of the wound, the Vehicon designated as ST3V3 was evicted from the med-bay. Knockout shut the sliding doors and began logging all the services perfomed for that cycle within a data report for future reference. He had never seen so many patients at once, especially not when there weren't any instances of Autobot retaliation. 

“This cycle has been one of the worst in awhile -” Knockout's digit tapped rapidly against the datapad screen, furiously filing his own report. He knew his paint job looked like a wreck and that he would need a good polish and wax after a cleansing station visit.

“- You weren't here helping because you decided to go frag off to the armory room.” It wasn't often Knockout needed to scold the other mech. He was usually resourceful and there when he needed him, lately Breakdown’s been consistently absent from his duties and refusing to pick up extra shifts with him. The mech declined going out on a patrol of a newfound energonmine, which Knockout deemed to be completed out of character for him.

“I'm still missing almost every shot, I can see but at the same time I can't see slag! Everything just looks off, I've never felt so useless.” Both of the ex-wreckers servo’s slammed down on the medical berth in front of him out of frustration.

Knockout's posture softened, and his optic ridges slightly raised. Breakdown was being… vulnerable around him, this was rare. He knew the mech had been having some difficulties accustoming to his sight with the subtraction of an optic, but he wasn't aware of how critical the situation was. If anything he thought the mech was toughing it out like he did with everything else.

“Your vision, it'll take some time to restabilize. The lack of an optic is going to make things hard for you, but it won't be impossible.” The medic approached his partner and let his servo grasp the side of his faceplate. He'd never seen such defeat on the decepticon ex-wrecker before. 

“And you're not useless. I wouldn't be able to do this without you, and you know that BD.” The dermas of the two mechs came into contact with one another and that gave Breakdown all the permission he needed to pick up the smaller mech and pin him down on the medical berth. 

The size difference between the two of them wasn't as severe as it may have been amongst other cybertronian relationships but it definitely gave Breakdown the upper hand at being able to maneuver Knockout how he wanted. The connection of oral receptors continued as Knockout slipped his glossa in and danced it along Breakdown’s, enticing him of what was further to come. 

The ex-wrecker's thick digits circled around Knockout's interface panel before the plating willingly slid down with a hiss. The aroma of the red mech's dripping valve filled the med-bay, and Breakdown broke the kiss. 

“You're already ready for me?”

“You think I didn't enjoy your antics earlier?” Knockout vented deeply as Breakdown pressed a digit at his entrance before slowly sliding it in.

His lubricating slick coated the intruding digit, and the quick clenches of his valve walls urged it to start pumping. A growl left Knockout's vocal capacitor when a second digit joined refuge within his valve. Breakdown knew exactly how to angle his digits to make the medic's frame twitch and heave. A loud moan erupted from Knockout when one of Breakdown's digits began rubbing circles around his outer-node. 

“Tell me you need me.”

“Frag- I do!”

“Then say it.” Breakdown quickened the pace of his digits, and the lewd slick noises only became audibly louder with the furthering of Knockout's pleasure and excitement.

“I need you!” The medic's sharp digits dragged along the underneath of the medical berth leaving gashes across the underside. Breakdown's servo was showing his valve no mercy as it shamelessly guided him to a long and drawn out overload. It didn't take long for Knockout's walls to start to spasm and small spurts of lubrication to erupt from his valve. He rode out his climax with a guttural groan and a very brief rev of his engine. 

Even the interface panel housing his errect spike slid off to allow him to leak thick beads of blue transfluid from his tip. Only when the medic was coming from his high did he pay attention to his partner's thick spike leaning up against his own. Their size difference wasn't just on the outside, as Breakdown was a good size and a half larger than Knockout in the spike department.

Knockout could swear to primus they were made for each other with how well he'd fill his valve when they interfaced. Breakdown lined up the tip of his spike against the soft mesh valve folds in front of him before pushing forward to enter. The entry was quick and painless as Knockout's frame knew this game the two of them would play all too well. 

A beep went off on the docked datapad stationed at Knockout's desk, which indicated that there were new inbound patients to the med-bay. Knockout looked back over at the mech, who was currently still inside him, who bared the expression of a sad cyberfox pup who'd just been told to stop. 

“We're finishing this. They can wait... Besides, I still need you.” A smirk appeared on his faceplate, telling his partner that the two would have a much longer cycle ahead of them...

[skellymom]

"Bring Me To My Knees" PART 2

Crosshair/Hunter x Reader Non Gendered SMUT++

Dividers by the talented: @saradika and @4ngelic-wh1spers

Background: Reader and Crosshair are separated from the group during the rescue of Omega and Tech from Mt Tantiss. Two broken people trying to get by in the galaxy. Then two broken people finally dealing with what happened to their group.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warning: Star Wars Canon violence, angst, death of major character, sadness, crying, guilt, permanent injury, stuff blowing up, swearing, kissing, intercourse, heavy petting, bite kind, blood kink, pain kink, spank kink, smutty/lemony content, lovers triangle with Hunter and Crosshair.

FOR CLARITY, HUNTER FLASHBACK SMUT SCENE IN CHAPTER 1. THE CROSSHAIR SMUT SCENE IS IN THIS CHAPTER 2. Broke this up in 2 chapters because I just couldn't stop writing...and 4K might be too much for one sitting.

I purposely wrote the reader in this fic to be of no specific gender. Tried to carefully craft the sexual scenes to accommodate either gender/non gendered/trans/genderfluid/non-binary. Everyone has hills, valleys, sexual organs, nipples, and erogenous zones. I wrote them into the story, but it's up to you dear reader to put your imagination to work. Hope I have done a good enough job that you can enjoy yourself with Hunter and Crosshair without breaking immersion!

To read Chapter 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744267915687264256/bring-me-to-my-knees-part-1?source=share

The intel proved to be correct. You and Crosshair traveled to an uncharted planet well past the Outer Rim. A quiet unassuming place to start planning a burgeoning Rebellion. 

He piloted. As your ship entered planetary airspace several Rebel ships swooped in as escorts. The Rebel base radioed in to confirm your status. 

“Crosshair, Clone Force 99 and Y/N, civilian. We are Rebel sympathizers wanting to join the Rebel cause and find our lost family and squad members.” You replied. 

“Authenticating data. Hold your position.” 

Silence as you and Crosshair waited on bated breath. 

“You are clear to land. We will perform a customary inspection of your transport. Then check your gunnery and weapons at the docking station armory.” 

“They’ll be taking my rifle OVER my DEAD body.” Crosshair snarked. 

“Toothpick?” 

“Hhm?” 

“It’s your gun, NOT your dick. Let them do their job.” 

He sighed and shook his head. 

Word must have spread fast. No sooner did you land than Omega was out the bay door jumping up and down in excitement. 

Crosshair barely got the gangplank down on the ship. You jumped over the stairs and landed on your hands and knees. Sprung up and ran to her. 

Omega knocked you over with her embrace. You were both laying there crying. She had grown two heads taller and much stronger too. 

Rebel soldiers had come out to check the validity of your claims. They stood aside seeing at least one of their residents recognize you. They had witnessed MANY reunions just like this as people were finding their way to the planet.  

There was more: Wrecker wasn’t far behind. He scooped you both up and hugged you fiercely. 

“AWWW...SO GLAD YOU’RE HERE! MISSED YA HORRIBLY!!!” Wiping away tears. 

Echo approached with Phee. 

Wrecker let you go, and you embraced them both with each arm. 

“Phee...what happened???” Her beautiful hair was gone. Head covered and tied fashionably with a scarf. Burn scar down one side of her face. You noticed one hand had scars as well. 

She shot Echo a strange look, then shrugged and perked up. “It’s growing back. Getting bacta therapy for the scars.” 

“Tech? Hunter? Are they here?” 

Echo answered “Come inside. We’ll get you settled.” 

“Wait, I didn’t come alone.” 

You turned towards your ship. Crosshair was standing at the bottom of the stairs. 

Omega gave him a bear hug. He had allowed her that. Wrecker stood a few feet away watching them.  

Echo took your hand. “Let’s give them some time to catch up.” 

He and Phee led you inside the base past bustling personnel.  

“Wait...I didn’t check my blaster...” 

“That’s ok” Phee patted your shoulder. “We vouched for you. Crosshair though...” 

You approached an open medical station with bacta tanks lined up...recognizing... 

“TECH!” 

He bobbed merrily in the solution, waving at your arrival. 

You stopped to see he was missing both legs...just like Echo. There were scars all over his body, some weren’t present during his rescue. Tech saw your face and immediately started signing in Basic. 

It is no major loss. I will be fine. Only 20 more rotations within this tank, then I shall be fitted for my prosthetics...please...don’t cry. 

Things were starting to come together...Phee’s hair loss and burns...the Marauder being hit... 

“WHERE’S HUNTER???” You yelled it in a panic. 

Echo stepped in and took your hand. “Y/N... he...” The look on his face told you this wouldn’t be good news. Echo’s eyes registered the scarf draped around your neck. 

There was a commotion behind you at the entrance of the base. Crosshair’s voice. Arguing with two Rebel troopers over his lack of compliance regarding check-in. 

“Sir! We need you to...” 

“NOT NOW! Can’t you see MY PARTNER is in distress!!!” 

The trooper grabbed his arm. Crosshair immediately disarmed the man and put his ass on the floor. Then handed the troopers gun to HIS partner sneering, “I said FUCK OFF!” 

The second trooper took the gun and commed for backup. 

Crosshair stalked over gently putting his hands on your shoulders. Fixing Echo with his baleful stare. “Where’s Hunter?” 

Echo fixed you both with his amber eyes. He sighed; his expression was so sad. “I’ll take you to him.” 

Tech tapped on the tank to get Crosshair’s attention. Cross glanced over shocked. He hadn’t recognized who was in there. Then he noticed Tech’s condition. 

I’ll be ok brother. He signed.  

Tech put his hand up against the glass. Crosshair placed his on the other side against Tech’s. 

The trooper’s backup arrived and trained their blasters on Crosshair. He turned and eyed them menacingly. Then dropped his hands from your shoulders, one of which you grabbed. 

“Don’t start any shit, Toothpick. Please, this isn’t the time.” Squeezing his hand firmly. 

He squeezed your hand back and stood down. 

“Break it up Trooper. These are friendlies.” Captain Rex emerged from the back of the squad. 

“But sir, he assaulted one of our Rebel staff. And he refused to check his rifle.” Pointing to Stormpuncher mounted on Crosshair’s back. 

“I’ll handle it, Trooper. You are all dismissed.” 

The Rebel squad eyed Crosshair uneasily as they filed away from the scene. 

“Good to see you both alive and well.” Rex smiled genuinely. “But I’ll let Echo catch you up on everything.” He nodded to Echo and stepped away. 

At this point Wrecker and Omega joined the group. 

“Follow me.” Echo instructed. 

You glanced at Tech as the group started to walk away. He smiled wistfully.  

“I got them Brown Eyes.” She winked at Tech, and he winked back. But he still looked concerned. 

Phee put her arm around your shoulder and walked with you. Crosshair followed at your other side silently. 

The group filed through the whole facility: past logistics, maintenance, troop training, mess, quarters, a small prison area (mostly empty), daycare, pet kennel, a few non-descript departments, and finally to the back end of the facility. The group approached heavy double doors. 

There was a sense of dread in your chest. Everyone was quiet. Echo looked heartbroken as he swiped his key card over the lock mechanism.  

The doors opened to the outside. A HUGE garden stretching for over a mile...planted with the bodies of those fallen from the Empire. Headstones, holoshrines, helmets, and all manner of tributes marked each plot. Adults, children, military, civilians, even service animals. Droids who could not be repaired were erected as tribute statuary with holoplaques proclaiming their sacrifice. 

Hunter was there. Laid to rest several rows down from the entrance. 

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“This isn’t real...” Shaking your head but staring straight ahead at Hunter’s helmet propped up on his plot. “NO... can’t.” Tears running down your face. 

Phee rubbed your back. “I’m SO sorry.” She was crying too. “Broody saved my life. I almost burned to death.” She pulled off the scarf to reveal the severity of her injuries. “I’m the reason he’s here.” 

Wrecker piped up “Noo, that’s not true. He would’ve done it for anyone on that ship.” He hugged Phee. 

Survivor’s guilt. Your heart went out to her.    

Crosshair took your hand and silently encouraged you to step down into the memorial and go to Hunter’s plot. You inhaled and stepped down...then your legs gave out. Crosshair grabbed your right shoulder. Echo ran over and supported your left. 

They led you to the plot. Wrecker, Phee, and Omega stayed behind. 

Soft grass was planted for whomever wished to sit and visit. Hunter’s helmet was surrounded by vivid red Poppies in full bloom. Echo seated you upon the grass. Crosshair kneeling beside you.  

“Can I do anything at all for you both.” He inquired. 

Silence. 

“Uh...I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“Echo?” 

“Yeah?” 

You swept him up in a hug again. “Thank you...for everything.” Tears returning. 

“Oh, of course.” He embraced you back. Holding on for some time. 

Echo patted your back and cleared his throat. He let go and wiped a tear from his face. 

Then he was gone.   

Crosshair sat stone faced staring at Hunter’s helmet bereft of emotion. It was the best he could do at this moment. 

You took off the red scarf, slipped it over Hunter’s helmet, and arranged it as if draped off Hunter’s own shoulders. 

Like he was sitting right in front of you with his bucket on... 

A sudden loud sob escaped. Each exhalation became louder until it ended in a scream. Your face red and pressed into the warm grass. Watering Hunter’s grave with your tears. Freeing the emotion out of the pit of your being. Screaming, sobbing until empty, finally collapsing from exhaustion. 

The afternoon progressed and the sun started to dip down towards the horizon. 

“Hey” Crosshair nudged you from disassociation. “Let’s go.” 

Numb, you let him haul you up under the shoulders. Standing, your vision went snowy and black.   

Crosshair must have carried you to the ship. The next few days were a blur, you slept through most of it. He hovered, fixing ration soup and just about threatening to force feed you. Trading whatever he could for black market sweets just to get ANYTHING into your belly. You barely remember Echo, Wrecker, Omega, or Phee visiting. Or AZI monitoring your vitals, reporting them well within range, that it was “only” grief and would eventually pass. 

Finally, after days in your bunk Crosshair had enough. 

“Soup!” He poked you awake. 

“Whaa?” Weakly turning over, burrowing under the blanket. 

“Get up. You STINK!” 

“Fuck off Crossy...” 

“Get up, or I’m throwing you INTO the refresher. Clothes and all.” 

You ignored him. 

Crosshair reached under the blanket and yanked you up. You caterwauled hurling swears, too weak to fight. But you were strong enough to hold on. 

He opened the refresher door and attempted to set you down. You stuck to him like shit on a Bantha’s behind. It turned into a wrestling match, both of you swearing at one another. One hand pried off him, then another would latch on, finally tearing his shirt to shreds. 

Cross gave up and flipped on the water soaking you both. The cold spray only made you hold on tighter, pressing against his chest for warmth. He gave up, sighed, adjusted the temp to warm. 

“Will you wash my hair?” 

Sighing again. “Yes.” 

You let go and turned your back to him. Crosshair lathered up his hands. 

“Wait.” You pulled the soaked T-shirt over your head and threw it in the corner of the shower. Now you're only clad in underwear. “Ok.” 

He applied the shampoo and did one helluva job massaging it into your hair. You smiled and groaned at the sensation. He finished by twisting the hair into a soapy point atop your head. 

“Will you wash my back and neck?” 

Heavy sigh. But he did. His hands were amazing. 

“Toothpick, will...” 

“I’m NOT washing your dirty ass...or anything else. You can reach.” Cross rinsed his hands and exited the refresher, leaving you to finish the job. 

You finally exited the shower feeling and smelling much better. 

Clean towels and comfy clothing were waiting for you. A non-descript box sat atop them.  

Dried, dressed, brushed your hair and nasty teeth. Then opened the box. The beautiful black and silver scarf from Mel and Marv’s stand. Toothpick paid attention...and had held on to it the whole time. 

You put it on and made your way back through the darkened ship. 

Crosshair was waiting, sitting on a blanket spread out on the floor. There was a multitude of fresh food and rations upon it. Also, a lit candle in the middle. The kind he would razz you about that “smelled like flowers and shit.” 

You smiled. “Is this a date?” Attempting some levity. 

“Sit your ass down and eat.” 

“Thank you.” Caressing the scarf around your neck. 

“For what?” He played dumb. You could see he noticed. 

“Everything. Being there for...” You couldn’t bear to speak it. “Taking care of me, this food...” 

“Can’t have you dying on me. Would have smelled worse than you already did.” 

“Oh...and that shower brawl...” looking up from your food. “THAT was certainly SOMETHING.” 

Crosshair grinned. “You owe me a new shirt.” 

“Do I, now? Well, don’t wear clothes in the refresher when you decide to throw me in.” 

He cocked an eyebrow while biting into a ration bar. 

“Then when I grab something, it’ll be foreplay.” 

Crosshair choked on his food. 

You stuffed yourself full. Satisfied, thanking Crosshair again (who rolled his eyes), and wandered back to your bunk. 

He had changed the bedding out while you were in the refresher. It was clean and the blanket turned over, inviting you to slide in. 

It felt wonderful burrowing into the clean sheets. 

But sleep was elusive tonight. 

The grief was still too much for you both. 

Two people alone on a dark, silent ship. The distance between you palpable. 

“Are...you awake?” he furtively asked with hushed tones in the dark. 

“Umhmm.” Intrigued as to why he asked. Sitting up and sliding your legs off to the side of the bunk. 

Silence. 

You sat there in the dark waiting for an answer. 

More silence... 

(You like a song to go with the following scene? Please check it out. Smutty, but emotional)

...then Crosshairs hand gently smoothing away the hair from your temple. 

You immediately embraced him tightly. 

He falters for just a beat.  Body frozen for what seems like an eternity.  Would this scare him away? 

Then you feel his arms encircle you, lips upon your cheek...kissing down to your lips. 

Unable to hold back any further, you turn your head to meet his lips to yours. 

Mouths opening to breathe into the well of one another.  Sliding upon each other passionately.  Breaths furiously taken in between long heated kisses. 

Then parting quickly to pull the clothing from each other's body.  Almost ripping the cloth away from bare skin.  Occasional moans of longing for skin-to-skin contact. 

Finally free of constraints, he stops to visually take you in... 

...he’s waited SO LONG for this moment. Couldn’t help admiring your strength while rescuing him on Tantiss...but finding out you bonded romantically to Hunter... 

“I... I’m afraid...” Terror and shame on his face. 

This shocks you to hear such words fall from his lips. He’s so VULNERABLE...kneeling next to you proclaiming his feelings. 

You reach out and stroke the side of his face, then firmly grip this chin. “So am I. But it’s just the two of us now.” 

You both stare into the lonely abyss of each other's eyes. 

“And I CAN’T STAND being alone.” 

“Then you WON’T be...EVER” He reaches out across the space between, pulling you to his body. His heat, his need. 

You have your own need, your heat blazes HOT with his deep kisses. Tongues intertwining.  

Then he pulls away to bury his face next to your ear whispering EVERY DIRTY THING he’s going to do to you while nuzzling and nipping your ear. Rubbing his hard cock along your shin, sliding along the wetness it leaves behind. 

You moan loudly...” Oh...fuck me...” 

“Mhmm...” trailing his tongue down your neck. His hands caressing the inside of your thighs. Stopping just short of your sex. Teasing his fingers around it...teasing you into fever pitch. 

Your hand on his shoulder digs your nails into his flesh. He moans in ecstasy from the pain. Trailing down your chest to nip and lick at your nipples. Crosshair stares up adoringly with half hooded eyes. 

His hand casually brushes your sex and trails away. 

Smiling while he teases. 

You grip the edge of the bunk, bracing your feet on the floor, and buck out your hips in the air, gasping, baring your teeth. 

Then he playfully but firmly slaps your sex. 

It pisses you off while turning you on at the same time. The tension building. 

His cock is SO slippery against your leg. The breath coming from him labored and shaky. Tracing your thighs just so closely to where you want to be stimulated, then away again. 

“FUCK ME!” You growl deeply through your teeth.  Something FERAL awakening in you. Shaking, sweating, digging harder into his shoulder. It starts to bleed, and his eyes roll back in his head.  

His facial expression turns intense. He slaps your sex again. You moan louder, then growl again. 

The teasing. It’s driving you INSANE. 

He knows you’re about to lose it... 

Crosshair stops kissing your chest, put’s his snarky, sexy, come-fuck-me-face up to your ear...  

“...Mmm...bite me...” 

Back somewhere in your sexually addled lizard brain registers this could be literal instead of figurative. 

And he slaps you...ONE MORE TIME... 

Without thinking you sink your teeth into his other shoulder. Blood seeping into your mouth. 

Crosshair screams out in fevered sexual ecstasy...frotting his weeping cock furiously against your leg. 

His slapping hand comes back fully on your sex, furiously stimulating... 

...kneading... 

...filling up your intimate spaces... 

...sliding.... 

...you buck your hips tightly against the hand that services you... 

...as the pressure of your molars squeeze the flesh of his shoulder...it’s heavenly pressure...the taste of copper as you suck it down... 

Crosshair’s fevered thrusts of his hips. 

The fevered ministrations of his hand. 

Ragged breaths mixed with groans...whimpers... 

You release your mouth from his shoulder, as you gasp for air... blood trailing down his back from the punctures. Small crimson rivulets running down your chin, neck, across your erect nipples...you fall back...Pressing your head into the bunk...eyes widening...mouth open. His left hand on the small of your back like a spotter, his right sending you over the edge... 

Clenching your abdomen...you feel that tickle...the beginning of... 

Crosshair stops and pulls his hand away. You grab his arm devastated, angry even to be thwarted from your orgasm. 

Breathlessly “I want to FEEL you...from the INSIDE.” It’s not presented as a question. But he’s waiting for your consent. 

You reach down, stroke his sopping wet member. He moans and shudders. Then brush a ghost of a kiss across Crosshair’s forehead as you scoot fully onto the bunk and open yourself up to him. Your seductive gaze is inviting. 

Up off his knees, he slinks over you on the bunk. Staring like a hungry animal.  

For a fleeting moment, you don’t see Crosshair there...just Hunter. Your desire threatens to topple over into grief...all these emotions bubbling up from the surface. That scar will NEVER be totally healed. The sadness that will NEVER totally leave. 

Crosshair watches the subtle changes of your expression and senses this. He understands. While there are differences, it’s his loss too. 

He covers his body with yours, basking in the warmth skin to skin. Then takes your face in his hands. Touching foreheads, he whispers promises for you both in the future. All the things you will do together and the burdens you will both share and support each other through. Every one of them ends with a kiss as a promise.  

“I’m not Hunter...but...I’ll work on being a better man than I was in my past.”  

“I don’t want you to live in Hunter’s shadow. You’re different. Our relationship will be different.” 

Silence. 

“I’m SO SORRY you lost your brother.” 

Crosshair covers his face with his hand. Silent tears spill out between his fingers. 

You say no more and hold him tightly. Knowing it was A LOT for him to even let go like this. Knowing the relationship, he had with especially Hunter was fraught with so much emotional angst. And the heavy burden Crosshair holds about the horrible things he did at the end. 

You both lay there for some time wrapped up together in each other's arms...just being. Crosshair’s head resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. You rubbing gentle circles though his hair. 

Finally, he speaks, “Would you like me to finish?” Looking up at you seriously with those intense dark eyes. 

You read him like a book. He knows you too well now. There’s a deep care for one another. But you both know the sex tonight will be for dealing with the grief. That's ok though. It’s an unspoken agreement of how this will help the two of you bond and heal.  

You’ll both drink, fight, fuck, laugh, and all manner of things together while dealing with this shared grief. Whatever gets you by. It’ll bind you both thick as thieves. 

“Yes.” 

He kisses down your body to your sex. Licking, sucking, lavishing you with an intensity that prevents you from lying still. All the while grinding his returned erection into the sheets, soaking them. 

You both begin to get vocal. He adds more stimulation with his fingers, driving you wild. Grasping the bedding, you arch your back again. With the pressure in your core, his tongue wetly sliding over your sex...your breathing reaches a fever pitch...the tingling returns... 

“Crosshair...” 

He stops, sits up, gently pulls your hips to position, and slides his length into you. 

“Fuuuck...” he groans loudly, slowly pulling out, then slowly sliding in...he wants to feel it ALL. No rush. Just the amazing sensation...every inch...of him...against you... 

...sliding out... 

...sliding in... 

His legs are shaking. 

Your breath not just respirations but moans to the timing of his thrusts. 

...sliding out... 

...sliding in... 

Crosshair’s eyes are hooded in desire. He can see you’re about to cum. A crooked, horny smile crosses his face. 

The tingle becomes a wave... 

IT RUSHES THROUGH YOU like beautiful warm surf racing towards your sex... 

...and reaches its destination... 

You arch your back deeper...He’s watching you at the apex of your orgasm. Time seems to slow down for a few seconds. Eyes open with no angst, anger, judgement, spite, sass...his eyes...the window to a man WIDE OPEN at this moment in time. He’s telling you with his eyes what his voice could not.  

You’re staring above right into those eyes as your head presses just a centimeter deeper into the bedding...you inhale DEEPLY as those warm tendrils explode deep at the base of your core.  

Orgiastic moan-scream comes from your mouth so intensely you feel it in the roof of your mouth. Vision fuzzing out slightly. Tiny warm explosions of nerves firing everywhere in your body.  

Crosshair squeezes you tightly, screaming gutturally, eyes shut tight, and shuddering inside you with his own climax. Both of your sensory stimuli shut out to the outside world: Only aware of you both connected at the junction of your bodies.  

And then the orgasm dissipates like a wave being pulled back out to sea. Seafoam settling in and tickling the shoals of your sex.  

You feel warm and tingly...the rush of all those endorphins. He collapses gently on top of you. Gathering each other up in embrace. 

laying in each other’s arms realizing the future is wide open. It's a bit daunting...scary even. But you have each other. And, for now, that will do. 

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[chxrrylime]

❝ float on. ❞

Sorry I died again. Here's this.

Price x Alex x M!Reader ↪ 1626 words — 18+ / SMUT.

Content tags — cis male submissive Price, cis male dominant reader, cis male dominant Alex, first time subspace, unsafe sex, oral sex, rimming, anal sex, begging, handjobs, fingering, facefucking, crying, blindfolds, and undernegotiated kink.

Price is sat on the edge of the small bed, shoulders slouched, elbows on his knees and head hung low. He feels light and heavy all at once, body weighted down by the eternal ache in his muscles, head floating up above the clouds like static focus. 

He’s foggy, letting himself drift as he listens to the sounds of his partners moving about the room, cleaning up his messes—you were always cleaning up after him.

Not twenty minutes ago you’d urged him out of what gear hadn’t been returned to the armory, guiding him into the shower and scrubbing him clean. Washing away the dirt and dried blood. Clipping his fingernails, scrubbing the grime that remained from beneath them. Trimming his knotted and overgrown beard back to its presentable shape.

It wasn’t often he got like this. Loose, and pliant. It was something you’d tried to explain to him in the past, that hazy feeling. He might’ve laughed at you then. He doesn’t remember.

When he opens his tired eyes, it’s in response to the gentle hand he feels settle on the back of his neck, lightly scratching the strands there, making his skin buzz. His gaze settles hazily on the strip of black cloth in your other hand, eyes squinting in speculation.

There’s another hand on his knee, giving a light squeeze.

“How’re we doing?” Alex asks, voice quiet, like anything louder might pierce the static waves bouncing around Price’s mind.

“Mm, dunno,” Price murmurs, humming contentedly as you nuzzle beneath his chin. He bares his throat to give you better access, head lulling back as you begin to kiss and suck at the sensitive skin of his neck, “pent up…”

“Yeah?” you whisper. 

You glance down to watch Alex’s hand slide up Price’s thigh, slipping over the half-hard bulge, massaging the Captain through his sweats and earning a hearty groan. 

“Alex—” Price moans softly, silenced by the blonds lips, a slow and hungry wet kiss as Price gently rolls his hips up into Alex’s strong hand. 

“Let us take care of you,” you say against his skin, trailing kisses down his neck, over his collarbones, lapping teasingly at his nipple before taking the pert bud into your mouth, suckling, admiring the choked noise Price makes, his chest jutting out against the stimulation.

Price fumbles for the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he tugs you up for a kiss, panting and licking greedily into your mouth.

When you pull back, you hold up the blindfold, Price lazily locking eyes on it with furrowed brows.

“Trust us?” You ask, cupping his cheek with your free hand. Alex has moved his hand back to Price’s thigh, giving him space to think. Price’s eyelids flutter, swallowing thickly before he gives a shaky nod.

“Y-yeah,” he says, and then again, firmer, “yeah, alright.”

You’re gentle tying the fabric, only pulling it taut to make sure it sits snug. You notice out of the corner of your eye how Price’s hand scrambles to settle over Alex’s, squeezing his fingers as his vision’s taken from him. Alex upturns his palm, squeezing back.

“Gonna undress you, then get you laid back, alright?”

“Keep yer hands on me,” Price whispers, so faint you almost don’t hear it, “don’ go quiet.”

“Anything, baby,” you smile, even though he can’t see it. 

You and Alex both carefully undress Price, sliding off his sweats and boxers, then slowly maneuver him back onto the bed, passively narrating each step as you go, making sure Price’s head is propped up properly, another pillow shoved under his lower back. 

“Fuck,” Price breathes out, fingers clenching in the bedsheets as you all finally settle, you between his spread legs, thumbs rubbing circles on each of his narrow hips, and Alex kneeling to Price’s left, up by his head.

“Alright?” 

“I…” Price begins, voice raspy. He swallows again, before giving a slight nod. He realizes only moments later you and Alex are waiting for him to say more, “never… felt like this.”

“Too much?” Alex asks, running his fingers through Price’s hair, still slightly damp from the shower.

“S’a lot,” he responds honestly, “but I’m… I’m good. Feel… outta body.”

“Still wanna play?” You hum, spreading your fingers over his meaty thighs to squeeze the supple flesh.

“Fuck, yeah,” he groans, and you smirk at the slight twitch his cock gives as your nails rake through his pubes.

You make brief eye contact with Alex, who gives you a slight nod.

You waste little time, letting spit pool on your tongue before letting it dribble down onto Price’s cock, slicking the hot flesh as you take him in hand, lowering onto your stomach. Alex takes Price’s legs, holding him by the ankles to give you better access, making Price jolt and moan as he’s spread open for your tongue, lapping greedily at his furled rim.

You spear your tongue into his hole, stretching him around the wet muscle, occasionally moving up to suckle at his taint or nose at his balls, feeling how his thick cock pulses and twitches in your hand on each tightened upstroke. 

Alex lowers Price’s legs back down, his calves coming to rest on your shoulders as you shuffle back up. Price makes a noise dangerously akin to a whimper at the loss of your hand on his prick, the sound muffled by Alex’s lips as he leans down to tongue fuck his mouth.

You dribble lube onto your fingers, rubbing them together to heat the cool gel before pressing two digits into his tight ass. Alex swallows down Price’s moan, one hand gripped in the short cropped hair while the other holds Price’s jaw tight. 

Price’s own hands scrabble, unable to see and unsure entirely what he’s reaching for, alternating from the sheets to the pillows to Alex’s thighs and arms and head. 

You watch how Price’s hole sucks your fingers in, winking greedily around the digits, your focus only shifting when you hear a hiccup, looking up suddenly to see tears streaking from beneath the blindfold, dampening the already dark fabric as they trail down and get trapped in his beard. 

Alex has paused his assault, meer inches from Price’s face as the tight grip in the Captain’s hair turns to soft petting. 

Alex coos, shushing Price, kissing the older man’s cheekbones.

“Please,” Price chokes, his thighs shaking as he rocks down onto your fingers. His cock is swollen and angry red, leaking precum like a broken faucet, flexing and twitching against his furry tummy, “please.”

“You look so pretty,  baby,” you praise, removing your fingers to trail your lube slicked hand up to ever so slowly stroke his cock, “so beautiful.”

Price lets out a sob as your cock finally breaches him, pushing into the tight, wet depths of his gummy walls. His legs wrap tight around your waist, ankles locked together as he all but pulls you deeper into him with a desperate cry.

When you look up Alex has his cock out, his own sweats and boxers pushed beneath his balls just enough to free his aching erection. He gives himself a few quick strokes before gripping the base, his free hand guiding Price by his hair until the sticky tip brushes Price’s saliva and tear slick lips.

Price gives a tentative lick and then moans, opening his mouth eagerly at the familiar bittersweet taste of precum. Alex curses under his breath, dropping his chin to his chest as he stiltedly thrusts his hips into the wet heat of Price’s mouth. 

Price reaches out blindly, slapping at Alex’s sides until he finds the blond’s hips, tugging at him until Alex moves to straddle the Captain’s face. You groan at the site, pumping your cock faster into Price’s welcoming hole.

You can hear the slick sounds of Price’s mouth working around Alex’s girth, the wet gags each time Alex bullies his prick into Price’s eager throat. Price’s hands grasp Alex’s ass, squeezing the muscular globes, nails digging into the flesh to leave behind red crescent-shaped indents.

You grip Price’s slender hips bruisingly tight, pounding into him as hard as you can, the movements jostling both Price and the bed, pounding the frame against the wall as your balls slap against Price’s ass, the lude, wet sound of skin on skin reverberating alongside Price’s muffled, increasingly desperate moans.

You close your eyes, barely able to hear Alex’s murmured praises as he continues his assault on Price’s throat. 

And then a soft, growling groan from the blond as his hips stutter forward, emptying his potent load into Price’s mouth.

It’s Price’s cock kicking hard before he shoots thick white streaks all over his stomach that has you shouting out, burying to the hilt as you fill Price’s ass—Price, who just came untouched from having his throat cum in.

Alex unmounts, giving Price a moment to catch his breath before he's pressing a water bottle to Price’s lips, gently urging him to drink, which he does so in big, greedy gulps. 

His hole flutters and spasms around your softening cock, making you groan as you slowly slip free, your cum dribbling out soon after, staining the crisp bed sheets. 

You crawl up the bed as Alex caps the bottle and sets it on the nightstand, the both of you on either side of Price, pressed up against his sides as he comes down. You run a finger over the hem of the blindfold and Price’s hand gently catches your wrist.

“Want it on?” You ask, using your thumb to wipe away the tear trails as Price gives a shaky nod, turning to nuzzle his head against your neck, reaching blindly for Alex’s hand to pull the blond’s arm over his torso.

[kyndredravenstories]

Eyes of Infinity: Delirium Chapter 8

Hello, I have been posting my work on AO3 and recently decided to venture here to Tumblr. Please note: This story is 18+. No minors. Please read tags carefully. Link to AO3 below but I will also be posting the chapters here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53564641/chapters/149000791#workskin

Pairing: Sylus/Female MC with some elements of Xavier/Female MC

Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Smut, Porn with Big Plot and Big Feelings

Content Warning (For the entire fic): Explicit sexual content, spoilers and alterations to existing lore and cards/memories/tender moments/secret times, size kink, size difference, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, anal sex, fingering, all kinds of fingering, elements of consensual somno, dom!Sylus, jealousy, possessive!Sylus, Mephisto stalking, typical game violence, battle and combat

Summary: To love him meant stepping over the threshold and crossing into darkness. To be with him meant accepting the lure of the shadows. And to protect him from betrayal meant sacrifice. I knew not how, only that I would not let time sever our paths ever again.

Previous Chapters: Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3 / Ch 4 / Ch 5 / Ch 6 / Ch 7

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"You should know that I adore you," Sylus murmurs, the red in his eyes languid and his voice a tender caress. "There is no love purer than mine."

In the wake of the words, I'm left stupefied.

I could have expected a whole nebula of variations to how he perceived our current -- whatever this was -- but...love?

My heart lurches in my chest. Sylus's answer matches my deepest darkest yearning, but I hesitate. I grab his forearms and pull him closer. My hands settle on his cheeks, and I search his face. He looks back at me without a mask or filter. His gaze remains soft and open, his lips tipped up in a gentle smile.

"Sylus," I breathe slowly, "how can you say something like that so easily?"

"Speaking truth is never difficult," he huffs.

I reach down and pinch myself, suddenly wondering if I've passed out in the mansion somewhere and have indulged too much in dreams. It hurts, which means I'm here and this is as real as real gets. I think.

"Is there a reason I should hide it?"

Only a few! The primary one being that he is the Sylus of N109. Isn't he concerned that admitting something like this is going to make things much more dangerous for him? That caring for someone might make him vulnerable? Again, I search his face. And again, I see no hesitation. I realize, then, that he is truly, absolutely, unequivocally unafraid. I stare at him in wonder. Truly, I have never known anyone like him. A man who is not afraid of anything. A man with enough power to shape his own reality. 

When I don't answer his question, he takes his turn to search my face -- maybe even my thoughts -- with those hyper-perceptive eyes and intellect. Apparently, his rummaging yields more than mine. He raises a brow.

"Why so anxious? Don't worry. I'm not in the mood to reveal our relationship to anyone anytime soon."

Relationship. Adoration. Love. The words repeat in my head over and over, but they might as well be in a foreign language. I stare at him like he's grown another head. Of course, it's not so terribly far fetched that he might care for me after the closeness we've shared, but how? Why? When did this happen? How did all of this go from some crazy sex in a hotel to the start of an entanglement? Still reeling, I give Sylus a critical look. Is this man even capable of having a normal bond with someone? What does normal even mean for him, and do our definitions of the word match up?

This is a man who sits on the throne of N109, owns a jet, a yacht, and an armory bigger than the Association's. I've seen him go to shootouts for breakfast then stop by a café for brunch. He's overthrown other rulers. His organization is at the heart of all of the most controversial, dangerous, and unethical research I have ever heard or read about. He's blown up buildings and torn down mountains of organized crime. He's quite possibly the most powerful and most unpredictable man I'll ever meet in my lifetime.

Yet he's telling me he loves me.

And that we're in a relationship.

I'm silent as I try to gather the scattered marbles of my thoughts back into their jar. All the while, Sylus doesn't say a word. He doesn't rush me or press me for an answer. When his cell phone rings, he picks it up and steps some distance away, giving me the space I need to figure out where exactly I stand in all of this. Somehow, I don't think that will happen quickly or easily. We've just met. I hardly know him. There are times he terrifies me, and there are times when I can't breathe around him. I've learned nothing of his past or who he really is. I know even less about his powers and their true nature. I don't know why he wanted to Resonate with me so much in the beginning. I don't know why he's taken such an interest in me, either.

He's a complete enigma.

But, you love him.

And suddenly, I know that I do.

Absolutely. Unequivocally.

Denying it would be pointless.

My heart as heavy as a sinking anchor, I look at his rugged profile as he speaks over the phone. Straightening my legs, I hop off the bike and start walking towards him, dragging that same heart on my sleeve right behind me. As I do, snow begins to fall from the sky above. It settles in his silver hair and dusts his jacket. His voice drifts to me on the wind. Familiar now, like a favorite cup of hot chocolate on a freezing winter night. The hue of his eyes shimmers in the flickering of the metropolis around us, and I finally admit that his eyes are the most beautiful crimson that I've ever seen. 

I admit that adore him, too.

His arrogance, his confidence, his gentleness, and -- yes -- even his controlled savagery.

I clutch at the jacket over my heart.

When did this happen?

How did this happen?

At last, my journey ends at his side. With a click, Sylus hangs up his call. I reach out my hand to him as he turns to face me. He glances at my outstretched hand then at me.

"What is it?" he asks, reaching out to join our hands together.

The moment I feel his palm against mine, I thread our fingers and yank him forward towards me. His eyes widen, but he lets me pull on him. He even stumbles. This King, who trusts no one and can cause devastation with the snap of his fingers, let's me do as I please.

Mildly overwhelmed, I brush strands of snow-dusted hair from his temple. With my other hand, I reach up and touch his cheek, my thumb stroking from right to left along his parted lips. That devilish mouth quirks up into an impish smirk. But, I'm not done yet. I want to keep touching him. Feathery soft, my hand smoothes against his chin. He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch as if it's the most pleasurable thing in this world. My heart thunders in my ears, faster and faster. Adoration, was it? Yes. That's what this feels like.

Reverently touching something I fear will vanish if I take too long to blink.

It's easy for him to disappear. So far, he's reappeared right at my side every time, but will it always be so? Or will he one day turn to mist and never come to me again? My jaw clenches tight. I let the fear surge through me and don't shy away from it this time. It's par for course, I suppose. A natural part of loving and adoring this man.

And I'm too far gone to go back now.

The moment I stop struggling against the shackles of this feeling, something shifts between us. It's like he senses it. Knows that I've finally given in. The corner of his mouth twitches and he grabs my wrist. With his eyes still alight with mirth and levity, he brings my hand to his mouth and softly bites my palm. I shiver, electricity bursting from my wrist to my shoulder. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses it and says "So? Have you and your pride come to a consensus?"

"We have," I humor him.

"And what's the verdict?" He pulls me forward this time by our joined hands, and I fall into his arms. "If it has anything to do with me letting you escape, you're out of luck. Whatever I hold in my hand is mine, sweetie. That includes you."

Our lips meet in a fevered kiss, and as the snow falls around us, I surrender to his passion. Escape is the last thing on my mind. My fear lingers in the ambience. Something as wonderful as this can't be destined for destruction, can it? I've seen enough darkness and tragedy in my life. Surely, it's time to see some happiness. If I have to fight for it -- if I have to bleed for it -- then I will. It's as simple as that. No other option exists because there is no way in hell that I will let this man disappear to a place that I can't follow.

We break away, and I wrap my arms around his waist. "I love you," I tell him, the words turning into white mist along with my breath. "It's completely insane. We haven't even gone on a date."

"If you want to do something mundane, we can," Sylus says, chuckling when I give him a frustrated glare. He hugs me just a little tighter. "But first, you need to go back to the light and recover. Heal. You can't do that here in the darkness."

"Is that why you're sending me away?" I pout.

He tilts his head. "Servants and fools are sent away. You are neither."

"Then, I want to stay."

"No."

I pull back, my hands sliding to my hips. "Sylus."

"Ellara."

We stare each other down.

"I can help you," I insist. "I know I'm not as strong as you, but I'm far from useless in a fight. My Resonance can help."

Something about that particular phrase triggers his impatience. He frowns and rubs a spot between his brows with a sigh.

"Go home with your knight, Ellara. Lick your wounds. Fight your Wanderers. Stay away from all this."

He starts to turn his back to me, and my anger flares. I grab a handful of his jacket and pull as hard as I can. "Don't you dismiss me like I'm one of your underlings," I growl at him. "If I want to stay, I damn well will."

When I turn him around, my temper loses its steam. The look on his face stops me in my tracks. It's not anger. Or frustration. It's something more, but I can't quite--

"I almost lost you," he murmurs, his fingers falling to my shoulder like the snow, gliding across my jacket and settling on my arm. "I don't...ever..." A muscle clenches in his jaw, and he stops speaking. His phone rings again, the sound breaking me out of my trance. He takes the call, leaving me to stew in a mess of emotions.

"Boss, he's here," a familiar voice says. Kieran?

"Early, as expected," Sylus nods. His tone is all business again, his eyes empty.

"He ripped through the first two waves in a single go. You sure he's got a Limiter?"

"Send in the Altered units."

"How many, Boss-man?" a more muffled voice asks. Luke this time.

"All of them."

"Yes, Boss."

"If that doesn't push him, we'll have to take more drastic measures." Those empty eyes slide to me. Inadvertently, I take a step back, realizing that they must be talking about Xavier. "We'll be there soon. Keep him busy until we arrive."

.

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The Lost Isles in Sector 354XF-N1 is a place lost to time. Even with the overpopulation in N109, this ten or so acres of wasteland is as barren as a desert. Only blackened rusty ruins remain after a series of particularly nasty Metaflux storms and Wanderer attacks. In the center stands the skeleton of a sprawling research facility, now twisted into a hideous sculpture of shattered glass, mold, dust, and filth.

Once, a massive lab stood here, a radiant beacon of success and progressive thinking. At least, on the outside. Within, Ever Group hoarded some of its deadliest projects. After it was destroyed in the storms, a cloud of toxins and chemical waste spilled forth, killing hundreds and turning the others into monsters and Abominations. The trees died; the rivers dried up, and the soil was poisoned for the foreseeable future. 

No human could live here, and after the tragedy that befell the citizens of this place, no one wanted to try. 

It's the perfect kind of place to stage a battle without collateral damage. 

Nearly a week past, the Boss had given clear direction. Take the samples of LUMINIS currently in the Vault, go to the Lost Isles, and attract all the Wanderers possible to these coordinates. Prepare the Altered Wanderer units as backup. Then, do anything and everything to push the Target to his limits. Pain, mutilation, mind-breaking illusions -- anything was fair game except taking his life. As long as the twins could break his Limiter, the means and methods are up to their discretion.

This night, Kieran and Luke thrill at the prospect. It's been ages, it seems, since the Boss let them loose. Thus far, the instructions are not a challenge to follow.

LUMINIS.

Truly, it's a wondrous concoction.

When Kieran takes the onyx vial out of its long glass case and pours it on the ground in the Lost Isles in various places and altitudes, he roughly knows what to expect.

Don't touch it, first and foremost.

Second, each location it is used in will summon a Dominante level or above Wanderer. Keep spraying and eventually the Metaflux build-up will summon Subservants to go with it. In a few hours, the place will be teaming with Wanderers and Abominations. Eventually, a Protofield will generate and dump the whole area into an even larger shell of chaos. It will take the Target all of his skill to escape.

Kieran was thorough, if nothing else. After using three full philters of LUMINIS and saturating the Lost Isles with the toxin, he jumps to the tallest ruin of a radio tower and watches the proceedings from above. Luke joins him shortly, having completed his own task. They lean against each other as Mephisto comes flying out of the darkness.

"It's done, Boss," Luke tells the crow. Their target will arrive soon, and the entertainment will begin. "Your hands are clean, right?" Luke asks his twin.

Kieran holds them up. "They are. But, I'm kinda curious what it feels like."

"You're demented," Luke chuckles, though Kieran senses he is curious as well. "You saw what it can do," he reminds his twin. Kieran nods. He still remembers that girl and her screaming in the shower with the Boss. The stuff had spilled all over her, slipping past the skin and snaking into her nerves and Evol channels. Miracle she wasn't dead, really, though she'd screamed loud enough to make him think she'd surely kick the bucket.

Poor naïve little bird trapped in a golden cage. Does she know yet that her Evol has been paralyzed? Does she know she might never Resonate again? Has the Boss told her?

"If a weak little thing like her can survive that much of it, then..." Luke plays with a philter, popping open the lid. Kieran catches his wrist to stop him.

"Not now, Luke. After we're done here."

They don't have to loiter long in boredom. The Target shows up several hours earlier than instructed just in time for the LUMINIS to start taking effect. The ground shakes as though multiple earthquakes are happening simultaneously. Roars, growls, and unearthly shrieks fill the air. Wanderers of all shapes and sizes materialize from thin air, their glowing red eyes hungering for blood. Some amble around on two legs, some on four. Some have arms. Others have webbing, fins, or claws. Each glows with its own aura from its Protocore, illuminating the viscous darkness ever present in the N109. But, none can compare to the moment when the Target reaches his destination and unleashes his own golden brilliance.

With flashes, arcs, and spectacular bursts of light more blinding than the sun, the Target eliminates his enemies. The more he cuts down, the more appear. The farther he moves into the bowels of the Lost Isles, the more he is surrounded by monsters. Yet, he is undaunted. He breaks through all the ranks, laying waste to Dominantes as though they are nothing but the weakest obstacle. Over the phone, the Boss instructs to release the Altered, and Luke and Kieran have no choice but to obey. They unleash the experimental units, and it seems that all hell breaks loose. The Altered have no concept of hierarchy. They do not see themselves as Subservants or Dominantes. They only yearn to watch the world burn and to feast on all the lives they encounter along their path.

There's four. No, five, if Luke counts the newest unit the Boss recently acquired. They amble towards the light like moths, sensing the Target's powerful Evol and moaning in hunger. Luke and Kieran watch their progress eagerly, curious to see how this powerful Hunter will fare against these engineered abominations. The Limiter is glowing red around his neck, but he isn't desperate enough. Not yet.

Behind them, the air explodes with heat and Evol as the Boss appears with the girl by his side. Luke notes her pallor and the way she still favors her right leg over her left. The way she moves her left arm is awkward still. He recalls how she worried for him, the experience still mystifying him entirely.

"Report," the Boss demands.

"He can still be pushed," Kieran says. "The Limiter is activated, but not broken."

"Sylus," the girl says, growing even paler as she walks to the edge of the building. "Why are you doing this to him?" She turns an angry glare to the Boss. "Please, let him go."

"He is free to come or go," the Boss grins. "Nothing is holding him here."

"Does he know where I am?" she cuts in. When she's about to say something else, the building rumbles beneath them.

"The Altered have reached the Target," Luke observes. The battle below explodes in light and Metaflux. The Target jumps from one Wanderer to the next, executing a flurry of blinding slashes, cuts, and twists. Stabbing, knifing, burning, eviscerating. He moves with the same speed as the Boss; when he needs to dodge or ambush, he shifts his body to different locations using his Evol. The Altered howl and throw blast after blast of Metaflux towards him. He flickers past every single one. Using a lull to his advantage, he runs up the side of one of their massive bodies and rams his blade into its head. With a haunting cry of fury which echoes through the ruins, the first Altered falls to the Target's skill.  

"Altered?" the girl's eyes grow wide in her small face. She reminds Kieran of an owl like this. "Not the thing you had me try to fight when we first met..." She turns to the Boss. "Sylus, please stop this."

The Boss remains stoic. "No, Ellara. That collar must break."

The second Altered falls. Then the third and fourth. The fifth puts up the biggest fight and causes the most destruction. With its deadly breath of fire, it sets everything around ablaze like a spray of napalm. Ruins burn and boil in the flames. Glass squeals and melts. And still, the Target fights on without stopping. He parries the monster's clumsy swings and jumps over the fireballs flying from its maw. As soon as he can manage it, the Target lunges forward and summons a long spear made of light. With a mighty swing, he stabs it into the monster's heart. 

Luke steadies the girl when the building shakes again. Kieran tilts his head at his twin, struggling to understand why he would do so without explicit orders. His attention is quickly diverted, though, when a series of deafening explosions blast through several blocks below. Ruins of buildings and homes collapse into rubble as colossal fulminations of light blind all of them. Luke, Kieran, the girl, and even the Boss have to shield their eyes as the darkness of the N109 is burned away momentarily.

Silence.

And then a voice followed by a razor sharp blade at Kieran's throat.

"Move," is the low decree, given in a voice that hardly sounds human.

Kieran opens his eyes to see the Target standing before him and Luke, his blade a whisper from slitting open flesh. Golden hair spills over glowing bright blue eyes. The Target is wearing a pitch black Hunter's uniform. Around his neck, the Limiter is cracked and shuddering, flickering with red and blue light. A beat, and then the collar shatters, falling to pieces with a dying gasp.

"Xavier!" the girl calls, her voice filled to the brim with relief.

"I won't ask again," the Target threatens.

"Let him through," the Boss commands. With that, Luke and Kieran's chains are lifted. They move aside, allowing the Target to pass by them.

The girl limps towards her Knight. When she is close enough, he pulls her against him, cradling her head with his hand as he embraces her. Blood blooms on his sleeve and around his waist. There's a large spot of it on his back. His clothes are tattered and singed; even some of his golden hair is covered in red. Yet his balance and posture are unaffected. He stands firm.

"Xavier, are you alright? Are you hurt? I'm so sorry."

When he pulls back to look at her, the Target's face has changed. The madness has receeded, along with his murderous intent. His bright eyes take in her body, checking for injuries or damage. When he's satisfied, he guides her to stand behind him and raises his blade. Immediately, Luke and Kieran prepare for combat. It's the girl's voice that stops them from lunging.

"Wait! Sylus, please...this is enough."

The Boss stands still, his eyes observing the girl and the Target. He isn't pleased. There's a shadow looming over his expression, and the air around him drops in temperature. 

"Take her and get out," he says with razor sharp finality. "Before I change my mind."

"Wait, what?" the girl starts to protest, but the Target cuts her off. He lifts her into his arms even as she struggles. "Wait, Sylus!"

A final azure glare at the Boss with eyes that promise death before -- in a single blinding flash -- both the girl and the Target vanish into the night.

[mahi-wayy]

Hey.... This is my first ask... Idk if this is right way... But if you could can you make headcannon of Kumara Varma from Bahubali??

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝑲𝑼𝑴𝑨𝑹 𝑽𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑨

• General • Romantic [both. sfw and nsfw]

a/n : bahu is so cute I will cry.

I - GENERAL

chaotic. he is so chaotic it's so funny 😭🤚🏻

afraid of dark and sharp things.

always nervous.

good dancer.

extremely loyal.

sleeps like a rock.

he eats a lot.

has a sweet tooth.

he likes cleaning and maintaining the armory.

self worth issues bcz of constant comparison with devasena.

adores children.

can be a little show off.

carries the dagger amrendra gave him everywhere with him.

the small blade is more precious than his life for him.

wanted amrendra and devasena to come to kuntal when he heard about their banishment but the couple convinced him otherwise.

had his doubts about bhalla and bijjaladeva but still made that attempt because well it would have made everything okay for everyone, especially amrendra and devasena.

II - ROMANTIC

SFW

makes the first adorable messed up nervous move.

sends flowers through servants everyday.

picks the mentioned flowers himself.

adorably clumsy.

always makes his partner laugh.

talking for hours.

trying to better weapon skills with his partner.

sleeps clinging to his partner.

NSFW

a sub.

listens to his partner very well.

okay with just about anything except for pain.

has a praise kink.

cries during sex.

whines.

--------

tags : @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl @vijayasena @voidsteffy @jkdaddy01 @rambheem-is-real @allari-ammayi @mellaga-karagani @ulaganayagi @ahamasmiyodhah

[abbacuuss]

23, 25, 26, 32, 35, 36

23. How did you discover you were kinky? When I found kink.com and fucking machines. Back at the armory.

25. Any unexpected ways kink has improved your life? It has made me accept more with expressing my feelings.

26. What do you think is important in keeping a BDSM relationship healthy? Communication. You have to be open and willing to trust and talk with your partner. It's not all selfish play. That's why you masturbate.

32. Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find: I have an unused fleshlight.

35. One sexual thing you would never do: ABL

36. Three spots that drive me insane: My inner thigh, behind my ear, and my neck