𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
Crossover Series
Mikaelson's Mate [SPN TVD Crossover]
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
One Shots
The troubled sister Klaus x reader
macklin celebrini has autism
Monterey Bay Aquarium
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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Cosmic Funnies

Discoholic 🪩

pixel skylines

★
One Nice Bug Per Day

Origami Around
occasionally subtle
Cosimo Galluzzi
Peter Solarz
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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JVL

izzy's playlists!
Misplaced Lens Cap
🪼
Mike Driver
seen from Colombia
seen from Colombia

seen from Colombia
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seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
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seen from Türkiye

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seen from Costa Rica
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@sadcupcake
𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
Crossover Series
Mikaelson's Mate [SPN TVD Crossover]
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
One Shots
The troubled sister Klaus x reader
Titus Danforth and reader from The Devil's Favourite are on a date in a restaurant. It's not going great. Reader is anxious and miserable and Titus tried so hard to anticipate her needs and he feels the burning desire to protect her.
That's his girl! He finally got her and he's been so emasculated his whole life and he was taught men protect and provide and lead and he can't even make sure his fiancée isn't terrified while out for dinner with him! His father's voice haunts him the entire time and he hates it.
He wants to go on a bloody rampage, because he doesn't know how else to deal with these pesky emotions but they are in public (urgh).
I'm imagining some lady with an expensive necklace walking past their table and Reader's eyes catch on it immediately. Her father is very controlling around money (and well... everything) and Titus is so desperate to fix this and make her happy and he can't so he asks if she wants that necklace.
But well... Titus ain't normal, is he?
So instead of buying the necklace, he kills that woman. Not immediatly, ofc, they are at dinner! He's a civilized devil worshipper!
So now I'm imagining Titus presenting his fiancée with a bloody diamond necklace :D and ofc she (being who she is) loves it. She adores it.
"I want my media to be historically accurate"
Cool, so you want natural fiber costumes with no/nuanced corset slander, people wearing colors, historical hairstyles, people wearing hats or headcoverings and long sleeves outside during the day, no potatoes or pumpkins in pre-columbian Europe, actors with textured skin and wrinkles, minimal makeup, consulting HEMA groups and weapons scholars for all the weapons and fight scenes, a good soundtrack that includes traditional instruments?
Oh, you mean you want 100% white people. Even in crowd scenes in port cities. There's a different word for that.
Stiles is a fox charmer or foxes consider him their leader
Since the association between Stiles and foxes is because of the Nogitsune (at least, to my knowledge), I’m using that as an inciting incident.
-
It takes Stiles a while to notice. Things are so fucked up after the Nogitsune that odd wildlife behavior doesn’t register. But eventually it calms down enough that his eye for patterns notices them. The foxes. Whenever Stiles is within a hundred yards of the Preserve, at least one fox can be found in the brush, watching him. Usually more than one.
He tells Deaton, who brushes him off, and the pack, but Scott just shrugs and says to let them know if the foxes do more than follow him. Peter seems more interested than the others, but he doesn’t speak up.
For weeks, nothing changes. Then a witch kidnaps Peter.
No one can track him, the witches have gone to ground, and Scott seems like he’s looking for an excuse to stop searching, though he goes along with the plans the others propose. Stiles is furious, and maybe a little scared, when he storms out of a pack meeting and into the Preserve.
The foxes come boiling out of the bushes as if summoned, at least a dozen of them. “I need to find Peter,” he tells them. Really he’s just venting his frustration. How could the foxes do anything if werewolf noses can’t find him?
But they draw closer. The underbrush continues to rustle as more join the gathering. “I need to find Peter Hale,” Stiles repeats, heart pounding. This is stupid He doesn’t even have anything of Peter’s with him to share with them.
Apparently, it doesn’t matter. After a breathless pause, the foxes scatter into the Preserve.
Stiles waits.
Sixteen minutes later, one of them returns.
It leads him straight to Peter.
“Aren’t you full of surprises,” Peter murmurs.
“Secrets,” Stiles corrects. This doesn’t feel like something he should share. Not yet.
Peter smiles. “Of course.”
I'm still working on my mikaelson mate fic but I started writing a Steter fic and I'm not sure how I feel. What do you guys think of this intro:
Stiles always felt somewhat on the outskirts of the pack. Being the only human could do that to you, he wasn’t as strong, wasn’t as fast, and he sure as hell wasn’t well trained in a fight or so the pack thought. To them he was just the human they kept around because he was their friend. They very quickly stopped seeing everything he contributed, the late night research he spent hours on, the sleepless nights trying to track down where the latest threat was calling home using geographical profiles on the monster of the week the same way his dad would on a suspect. They sure as shit weren’t using their brains enough to consider the fact that he was a sheriff's kid, of course his dad made sure he knew how to defend himself and when the supernatural world made itself known he took a more invested interest, telling his dad it would be a good way for them to spend time together, which it was. He missed his dad a lot these days, the sheriff always trying to solve seemingly impossible crimes with suspects that just disappeared.
If they had taken notice of Stiles, his skills and intelligence, if they nurtured it, they would have realised that he could have been their greatest weapon. Instead they sheltered him, used him for information that they took for granted like it was easy to find information on things that shouldn’t even exist. They pushed him aside with the excuse of keeping him safe when really all they wanted was to not have to worry if the fragile human would break.
He knew he should tell them he wasn’t weak, that he could fight. Hell if they didn’t believe him he should just challenge Derek to a fight, beat an alpha and he would sure as shit earn their respect then right? But he couldn’t. It was easier to pretend it wasn’t happening. That they were just worried for him. In his quest to gather more information on the supernatural world, his thirst for knowledge never quite quenched; he often had to prove his worth and fight for his right to the information. Ancient creatures with centuries of knowledge that since grew bored in their eternal life often got a kick at the human teenager that could put up a good fight and even sometimes win against his supernatural opponents that by all standards squash him like a bug. The more valuable information he requested the being often chose tougher, stronger opponents for a more entertaining fight, and if he wanted something really juicy well then more than one opponent was often called upon and when the information was truly sought after the fights were to the death.Somehow he always made it out alive, the more he fought the better he got. By now he would be more than skilled enough to take down Derek if he wanted to, hell Scott as well for that matter, But he couldn’t do it. If he told them he didn’t know how they would react, if they kicked him out for risking bringing these ancient creatures to Beacon hills he would never recover.
So he just kept being pushed further and further away, just being included when they needed information no one else was able to find, they had tried to find out exactly how he got his information, he’d always lose them. They weren’t exactly subtle with their stalking. As he got more and more depressed the further away his friends pushed him The harder his mate fought to get back to him.
Peter had known Stiles was his mate in his final moments. Just as his entire body was engulfed in flames did he catch the scent, following it to the source with his eyes. As he died he watched his mate standing with the people who had done it. He knew why Stiles was by their side, he didn’t know Peter was his mate. He was a human teenager and didn’t know better. He thought maybe he’d find peace after it all but instead he was forced to watch Stiles. Watch his life, his incomparable intelligence and determination.
His fighting technique improve and his battles with the supernatural creature in exchange for information. He was Livid with Stiles for risking his life but he also saw the way his so called friends treated him. The increasing distance between them and his mate. He couldn’t truly blame him for his actions. He was trying to stay useful to them the only way he knew how, through information. The longer he observed the more he could see the true potential in his mate. It was always there but now he was deadly all in his own right. He didn’t need the pack to solve the threats in Beacon Hills, he could have taken them all on, on his own as a human and won. Peter’s wolf was beyond proud of his mate, his strong, capable mate, he couldn’t imagine Stile’s as a wolf. He remembers offering stiles the bite and being turned down but just the imagine of him being a wolf on top of what he had turned himself into was an exhilarating thought for Peter.
The riskier Stiles got with his fights the more restless Peter got. He had been racking his mind for months now trying to figure out a way to get back to the land of the living and be there for his mate, to make sure he doesn’t end up getting himself killed before Peter can make it back to him. He finally had a solution, the banshee. He had started putting his plan into motion, there was no going back now, no more seeing Stiles. Not until he was alive again. The last he saw of his mate he was asleep in his bed. Safe.
That is not how he finds his mate when he’s living again.
I like this Idea
Yes Yes Yes
Nah keep doing TVD
Hey friends! Since I've seen it more than once in the past couple of days...
Friendly reminder that a/b/o without the slashes is a slur against aboriginal people. Even with, it can be jarring to see.
Consider using omegaverse instead but at the very least make sure you always include the slashes.
𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺4𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺
OR: four times you and titus match each other’s freak to a dangerous level (titus danforth x f!wife!reader)
AO3 link (broken up into chapters) | masterlist
Warnings: DEAD DOVE CONTENT- READ WARNIGNS THUROUGHLY; ADULT CONTENT (MDNI), filthy nasty freaky. they’re both fucked in the head, porn and plot (ish), established relationship, reader drinks alcohol, unprotected sex, descriptions of murder and violence/torture, theyre both switches, titus has a pain kink! yay!, a hint of a foot fetish, knife play, blood play, dubcon/cnc roleplay (reader gets ‘kidnapped’ and ‘tortured’ with a man who actually gets kidnapped and tortured/killed; this is the 4th blurb if you want to skip it), there is no harm to each other outside of the scopes of things they’ve agreed to (offscreen), use of a safeword but reader's fine to keep going after a change in position, breeding kink, mating press, only a little bit of a scent kink this time!!! everyone clap, desecration of a dead body, getting walked in on, titus might be a bit ooc at points, glove kink (maybe?), spanking; no use of y/n, no descriptors, reader identifies as a woman and titus says ‘yes ma’am’.
A/N: I fear I might have cooked with this. I’ve been thinking about pain kink titus x reader who indulges him a lot and needed to expand on that. Not necessarily a sequel to that fic, but definitely has similar elements. I think this goes without saying but for legal reasons: do not do the unsafe things depicted in this fic.
Word Count: 15.2k (yeaaaa i got a little carried away)
divider credit
Being a Danforth required you to wear many masks. When you married Titus, you knew you would have to juggle the duality of being a cult member and socialite. A perfectly normal, doting trophy wife to broader society. But that’s not what you were, not really. People often whispered about your and Titus’ relationship. How you, the woman who organized charity galas with a genuine smile, ended up with the Danforth heir everyone was afraid of. A cruel man who bristled at anyone who looked at him too long, soothed with a brush of your fingers against his bicep. The most curious part was that Titus was apparently infatuated with you. He wouldn’t allow you to stray from his side during events. He took you with him on his business trips. Most of Titus’ colleagues laughed about how well he had control over you. What a good, obedient little wife you were. And Titus laughed with them. Because they had no idea that it was you who controlled him.
Your outward appearance was extremely curated. Both you and Titus had a role to play, afterall. Both your public and private-ish moments involved prying eyes and positions of power. It wasn’t until you two were truly alone that the masks of the Danforths slipped and you settled into your true personalities. Unfortunately, you were too busy preparing yourself for the night ahead to notice Titus didn’t feel like putting that mask on quite yet.
You sat in front of your vanity in the closet, warm light spilling from behind the mirror. You blinked at yourself as you fiddled with the backs of your favorite jewel earrings, an anniversary gift from your husband. Once they were secured, you gave yourself a once-over. The black dress you wore shimmered with every minute movement. A stunning outfit that would dazzle everyone at the gala. It was to be expected, of course, that you would be the best-dressed couple in attendance. It didn’t matter that the fabric itched at the sensitive skin of your stomach and your makeup was already starting to make your eyes water and you had that weird energy flowing through you- one of a long night that was just beginning. Because you were a Danforth, and you were expected to be above such trivial things as physical discomfort. The gala was for some museum and Titus had made an extremely generous donation. You had required it of him after he lost his temper and snapped the neck of one of the waitstaff. A penance of sorts. Titus had tendencies that you didn’t always care for. He was mostly good, but when he slipped up (accidentally or intentionally), you always made him atone in one way or another. That was the leash you kept him on. The museum had been so honored at the sum of the donation that they had named you the guests of honor at their annual fundraising event. Of course, any event the Danforths attended was worthwhile, and they had been giddy to learn that you accepted the invitation. It didn’t matter that Titus didn’t want to go, and you weren’t particularly enthused, but you would drag the man by the ear if necessary. If Titus didn’t want to be philanthropic, he should learn to keep his hands to himself.
“Are you ready?” The rumbling voice came from the doorway to your closet. Your eyes flicked sideways to catch the sight of Titus leaning against the frame, face relaxed in boredom. He wore a black three-piece suit, tie matching the color of your earrings. He had shaven that morning, much to your chagrin, and you could see the frown lines the stubble usually covered. You could see the curls perfectly arranged along his neck. You cast your gaze down to the vanity table. If you looked at him for any longer, you’d never show up to that event. You forced yourself to swallow the hum of appreciation for his appearance. Instead, you rolled on some of your perfume on your wrists and dabbed them to your neck. You gave him a smile.
“I just need to put on my shoes.” You stood from the vanity stool and crossed the closet. ‘Closet’ was an understatement, honestly, and you stood at the shelves of heels lining the wall with a thoughtful pout. Your thumb brushed against your painted lips as you considered. You turned to Titus. “Which ones should I wear?” He pushed himself off the surface and entered the closet. As he stood beside you, you could smell his cologne and you took a subtle deep breath. Your thumb covered the smile that twitched at your mouth. He only wore that one when he was in a…specific mood. He knew how it settled heavy in your brain and made your mouth water. You watched his profile as his eyes scanned the lines of heels. Titus let out a little grunt when he made his decision. He reached up and looped a single finger through the loops of the shoes, bringing them down to you.
“These ones.” He said simply, letting them dangle from his index finger. You nodded approvingly. They were one of your favorite pairs. The Tom Ford Padlock sandals. They were sleek, a smooth black leather strap to wrap around your ankle and a golden metal stiletto. They were the first pair of shoes you had purchased with Titus’ card. It had been a battle for him to convince you to, please, spend his money on things you wanted. It made him feel needed. You had, a bit spitefully, gone to the most upscale clothing store and looked to buy the most ridiculously priced item. You liked the contrast of the gold and the black, but your favorite part was the little padlock and key charm that dangled from the ankle strap. You thought it was cheeky, considering you had sold your soul to the devil during your wedding and interlinked yourself and Titus for all of eternity. You were truly locked to him. When you saw the price, you deemed the pair perfect for your plan. You had shown Titus that night, assuming he would scoff at them, call them ridiculous or overpriced or gaudy or something. But when you explained the reasoning behind the charm and modeled them for him, he became insatiable. He fucked you five times that night, all while assuring you that, yes, you were his forever and demanding the heels stayed on. Safe to say they were his favorite pair, too, and if he had to be stuck playing socialite for the evening, you could at least indulge him in this.
“Good choice.” You went to reach for the shoes, but he pulled back slightly before you could grab them. Your brow furrowed slightly and your eyes searched his face for an explanation.
“May I?” Titus’ voice was soft and a little vulnerable. His pupils were a little wider than they had been only a few moments ago. Understanding cleared your hazy mind. Right. You knew that look. You smothered a smirk and nodded. You walked back over to your vanity and sat on the stool, hands in your lap and feet dangling slightly. Titus followed dutifully behind you, mouth set in a firm line and fingers clutching the shoes tightly. He held your gaze as he lowered himself to his knees, adjusting his position so that he kneeled directly in front of you. He took one of the heels and brought it to your foot, licking his bottom lip in the way he always did before starting on an extremely important task. You slipped your foot into the heel. You raised your leg and pressed the shoe directly into the center of his chest, leaning back slightly so that you could look down at him. Titus looked up at you with reverence, awaiting your command. You felt his heart hammering beneath the sole. You tilted your head and gave a small nod. Titus’ fingers brushed against the smooth skin of your thighs and ran them down to your ankle before clipping the golden buckle securely closed. He gently set your foot down to the ground and repeated the action with the other shoe. Titus was slow and deliberate in his movements, enjoying every moment he was able to care for you like this. It was a state he only entered when you shared true privacy, a moment of soft devotion allowed only for one person in the entire universe: you.
When he finished with the second shoe, he gripped the meat of your calf and brought your leg up to his face. He gently brushed his lips against the padlock charm before kissing your soft skin that smelled of your body lotion. He looked up at you from under his eyelids, a silent plea.
“Thank you, Titus,” you said sweetly, running the edge of your shoe against his chin. His eyes fluttered at the contact and you saw his hands ball into fists on his thighs. “Very well done.” You tapped your finger to your chin in faux consideration. “Think you deserve a reward?” Titus’ eyes snapped open again, excitement flashing through the hazel circles.
“Please.” The word was barely audible. He swallowed as you dragged your heel slowly from his chin down the center of his chest. The lapels of his suit jacket rose and fell rapidly with each of his panting breaths. You could hear the air entering and leaving his nostrils as his eyes followed the black leather shoe. You ran it down his center slowly, tantalizingly so. Until you rested the flat part of the sole against his crotch. There was already a bulge beginning to form and you felt the soft hardness of his dick beneath his zipper. You pressed your heel into it. Titus’ breath hitched and you felt him get harder beneath the pressure. You stepped on his bulge harder, until you were actively crushing his length beneath your foot. Titus let out a small whimper, knuckles whitening with how hard he was balling his fists. “H…Har-” you didn’t let him finish before jerking your foot down, forcefully kicking him between the legs. Titus sucked in a breath and doubled over. A little pained groan was pulled from his chest and his hands clutched around your ankle. But he didn’t push you away. Instead, he pulled your foot down closer against him. He was leaning so far forward that his forehead was resting against your leg. You twisted your heel against him like one would squish a bug, the metallic stiletto running against his inner thigh. You saw a tear slip from Titus’ eye.
“Aw,” you tutted, condescension dripping from the word. “Too much?” You pressed slightly harder. Titus swallowed thickly and looked up at you with wet eyes.
“N-No.” He said. His voice was strained, but you felt his cock throb under you. “Thank you.” You hummed and checked the watch on your wrist.
“We’ve got to go, baby,” you said, voice soft. You pried his hands from your ankle and gave a kiss to his forehead, running your thumb along his cheek to collect the stray tear. Titus nodded and you brought him to a standing position by his wrists. You stayed sitting, eye level with his now very obvious erection. You ran your nose up the ridge and placed a kiss on his tip. You could smell the intoxicating mixture of his cologne and the warm, heady smell of his precum pooling in his boxers. Titus let out another whimper and went to rest his hand on your head, but you slapped it away, giving him a glare. He pouted. You ignored him and stood up. You were flush against his chest and you smoothed your hands against his chest, straightening his tie. “If you behave tonight, maybe I’ll consider letting you cum later.” You murmured, flashing him a saccharine smile. Titus shivered.
“Yes ma’am.” He promised.
“Good boy.” You entwined your arm with his and gestured for him to lead you out of the room. He blinked hard and clenched his jaw, shaking his head. It was going to be a long night.
The invitation arrived at breakfast one morning. You and Titus sat at the small table in his study. You could use the proper table in the dining room, but you were too far from him when you sat at opposing ends. The 4-seat table in his study was large enough to hold both of your breakfasts while also offering the sweet intimacy of starting your days together. Plus, it was on the second floor of the house and offered a better view. You sipped your coffee and spooned berries into your mouth as you overlooked the forest of the property. It was fall and the trees were converting from a lively green to rich warmer tones. A squirrel ran past your eyeline carrying a mouthful of fallen leaves for its nest.
“What are your plans for the day, my darling?” Titus hummed, flipping the page of his newspaper. The local paper didn’t actually print their dailies anymore; they only emailed it out. But Titus would not have that. It took a lot of convincing and a genuine threat, but sure enough, the only physical copy of the paper in existence was delivered to him every morning. You hummed at his question, thinking it over.
“The resort is having that wine exposition,” You said. For the owner of the Danforth Resort and Country Club, Titus rarely actually knew what was occurring on his family’s estate. “I might check that out. Some of the ladies are supposed to be there.” A faint smirk curled at his lips as he continued reading.
“Thought you didn’t like them.”
“I don’t,” You confirmed, placing another berry in your mouth. “But it’s something to do. Ursula’s still in France.” Usually, your days involved doing random side quests with your sister-in-law, but she had been called to a summit in Paris for the week. You would have to settle with getting dolled up in country club attire and sipping wines that couldn’t compare to the Danforth personal reserves. Not a bad day by any means, but you wish you had Ursula to go with you. You needed her company for sharing judgemental looks while the wives of business partners spewed their nonsense. One of the downsides of being in a satanic cult was that your social circle was severely limited. Most of the interesting cult members lived halfway across the globe and only reunited for special occasions. Your closest friend besides Ursula lived on a private Island off Papua New Guinea. Not an ideal distance to invite her to random events to pass your time. You sighed and sipped your coffee and stared out the window. Titus let the paper dip and his eyes found your face. He took off his reading glasses and leaned back in his chair.
“You could come with me today.” He offered, but you rolled your eyes.
“And listen to old white men argue for ten hours about how best to exploit their foreign factory workers?” You scoffed. “Sounds riveting, but no thank you.” Titus had been invited to an industry conference. You didn’t know what industry. You didn’t really care. Most of the Danforth business ventures were strictly hobbies or fronts for their money. The true wealth came from much darker, much more archaic places. Titus inhaled.
“Don’t appreciate the ‘old’ comment.” He muttered, running his hands through his hair. You gave him a playful glare.
“Sorry. You’ve still got some ginger. I can see it.”
“Thank you.” He put his readers back on and returned to his paper. You stifled a chuckle. There was a small knock at the door to his study. Titus looked confused and checked the grandfather clock on the other wall. “Come in.” He said hesitantly. He should have another hour before his driver came to collect him. The heavy wooden door creaked open and a young man meekly poked his head through the opening. Titus waved him in and held out his hand expectantly. The man, pimple-faced with wide, nervous eyes, placed a cream envelope and silver letter opener into Titus’ palm before scurrying away. Titus scoffed when the door closed.
“You’d think the staff would have more decorum. Running away like a frightened rat.” He rolled his eyes and gripped the blade, positioning it at the seam of the letter.
“You killed his predecessor, Titus,” you reminded him “He’s scared.”
“Good.” He ripped the envelope open and widened the gap, gently pulling the cardstock from its prison. His eyes scanned the page and he let out a curious noise. “David is retiring.” He announced.
“De Malle?” Titus nodded.
“His son’s gonna run that company into the ground.” He sighed, shifting in his seat while continuing to read. You noticed his eyes widen slightly towards the end of the letter. Titus licked his lips and turned his gaze up to you, lowering his voice. “He’s having a party.” Oh. That was interesting. The De Malle parties were well-known for their (borderline outlandish) extravagancy. The last time you had been invited was for David’s 50th birthday a few years prior. The entree for the evening was zebra steaks. Followed by decadent pastries and ritual sacrifice for desert. “An evening like no other.” Titus read from the invitation. Excitement bristled along your spinal column. It had been several months since you hunted, and the itch to sink a knife into a warm body was starting to grow uncomfortable. You knew your husband felt similarly. He always carried a tenseness in his shoulder when he went too long without forcing the life from a human being. Sometimes, when he got too restless, you’d have to place an order for the Room. A small, sound-proofed bunker in the center of the estate woods filled with various weapons and torture devices. When he was wound to the point of snapping, Titus only needed a few hours in there before he would jovially rejoin you in your house, covering your cheeks with kisses as you wiped the blood from his hands and called the clean-up crew. The last poor soul had been so…dispersed…that the cleaners had to call in backup. And even then, Titus’ relaxation had only lasted a few weeks. He carried the tension in him as he gripped the invitation and you felt his aura begin to simmer with anticipation. “Send our RSVP.” He told you, finishing his coffee and standing. He rounded the table and pressed a kiss to your crown. “I’m going to practice my speech again. I’ll see you tonight. I want you waiting…wear the blue one.” He mumbled the last part against your scalp and you nodded with a knowing grin. Ah yes, the blue one, the delectable lingerie piece that Titus only requested you in when you were preparing for a hunt. Anticipation flared in your chest. You couldn't wait.
Two weeks later, you were driving up the brick drive of the De Malle residence. You sat in the back of a limousine. The slit of your dress exposed enough thigh that your bare skin pressed against Titus’ pants. You loved the suit he was wearing. It wasn’t made of silk, but it sure felt like it- soft, dark fabric that clung to his muscles, showing off his powerful legs and broad shoulders. You would stay glued to his side this evening, more so than normal. You couldn’t let such a delectable man out of your sight. Your arousal had been simmering for hours. It initially sparked when you saw Titus emerge from the shower, his wet curls plastered against his neck and towel low on his hips, belly poking over the plush white fabric. Completely unaware of the effect it had on you. You didn’t believe in the heart-eyes phenomenon until that moment, while your eyes were wide and your vision pulsed with desperate need. If it was up to you, you would’ve grabbed him by the hair, fingers gripping the curls with a force only death could release, dragged him across the room, and ridden him until his bones broke. Unfortunately, that would have made you late. And though Titus Danforth had many attributes, late was never one of them. So you settled on watching him with shallow breaths as he disappeared in his closet. You had to genuinely stifle a moan when he emerged wearing a mahogany turtleneck and black pants, carrying the matching jacket over his shoulder with a finger. You could’ve sworn your mouth physically watered at the sight. His shoulders pulled the fabric taught over his chest and you could see the bulging muscles of his arms. His biceps especially. The same biceps that would hold you in a headlock while he plowed you into your mattress. He had to repeat your name several times to pull you from your hazy headspace, a knowing smirk on his stupid face. You muttered out a retort and grabbed your clutch before allowing him to guide you down to the car, broad palm on the small of your back, finger just barely caressing the swell of your ass.
While Titus looked down-right devourable in his suit, you were anxiously awaiting the second outfit of the night. The one that sat in the duffle bag in the trunk of the limo. His hunting outfit. Sitting right on top of yours, folded neatly and waiting for the clock to strike midnight. Your limo pulled into the line of the sleek black cars in front of the villa’s main entrance. It was a gorgeous cream color with brick red roofing and columns framing each door and window of the three stories. You knew that there was a secret fourth floor, a basement adorned with an altar and flickering candles. You wondered if you would see it tonight, or if the De Malles had something else in mind. The car came to a stop and the valet opened the door, stepping to the side so Titus could climb out. He took your hand in his and pulled you up beside him, curling a protective arm around your waist.
“Who do you think it’s going to be?” You asked him, walking up the steps to the villa.
“I don’t know,” Titus admitted as you walked into the house. There was already a loud buzz of conversation and music. You shrugged your shawl from your shoulders and handed it to a footman. “David’s been very tight-lipped about everything. Do you want to put in a guess?” You pursed your lips in consideration.
“Mistress’ boyfriend.” You said confidently, smiling as a complimentary flute of champagne was presented to you by a caterer. You took a sip and turned back to Titus. He looked slightly amused.
“That’s incredibly vague.” He huffed. “Could apply to half of the city, with De Malle’s tendencies.” You were about to respond when Mrs. De Malles appeared in the foyer. She wore a dazzling red dress with golden bangles jingling from her wrist. She smiled widely at you. Or attempted to, anyway. Her teeth were too white and the amount of filler in her cheeks made the grin look more like a snarl. She cooed at the pair of you, saying how she was so glad you were able to make it. You gave a tight smile and allowed her to take your hands in hers.
“Oh darling,” Concern laced her words “You’re frigid! Head over to the bar, get yourself something to drink and get warm! Enjoy the party!” She bid you farewell and disappeared back into the crowd.
“I’ll take her offer,” Titus sighed, scratching at his stubble. “We’ve still got five more hours of socializing.” You hummed in agreement and weaved your way to the bar.
The party was nice. You had been separated from Titus at some point, pulled into conversation with the wives while he made his way into the smoke-filled drawing room across the hall. The soft lighting and conversation made the tension in your body uncoil slightly and you found yourself genuinely having a good time. You had settled in with a group of women and had been so caught up in the conversation that you didn’t notice the room was beginning to empty. It wasn’t until one of the ladies’ husbands came to collect her did you actually realize what time it was. 11:30. You were surprised. Usually you’d be asleep by now, but not a lick of tiredness curled in your body. It wasn’t long before the rest of your social group wished you goodnight, leaving you alone at a cocktail table at the edge of the room. You scanned the room again, noting that the majority of patrons had left for the evening. There were only about ten people left. You felt a hand brush the small of your back and you grinned. Titus came up behind you, smelling of rich cigar smoke. You finished the rest of your drink and set the glass down.
“Are you ready to go home?” You asked him, looking at him with the soft adoring eyes indicative of the tipsyness flowing through your blood. Your hands rested on his chest and smoothed his lapels, an almost nervous habit of yours. You just needed to have your hands on him. Titus gave you an amused, but curious look.
“No.” He said. “It’s time.” He blinked at you, waiting for you to catch up to his meaning. It took you a few moments. Realization dawned on you and you inhaled, eyes widening.
“Oh. Right.” In the pleasant haze of cocktails and gossip, you had completely forgotten the second half of the evening’s activities. Titus rubbed a circle with his thumb against the muscles of your back, pulling you slightly closer to him so that your forearms were against his torso and your thighs brushed against his. Heat seeped into your skin. You doubted it was the result of your buzzed state. Titus was looking at you, sizing you up like he was trying to figure out the best place to take a bite out of you.
“We have to get changed.” He murmured with a smirk. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. One of his hands wrapped around yours and lowered it from his chest. You nodded and followed him into the hallway. He stopped in front of a pair of locker rooms at the back of the house. “I’ll see you out there, alright?” You nodded and watched as his broad frame disappeared into the changing room.
The midnight air had a sharp bite to it, and you cursed the choice of hunting attire. De Malle was a bit of a traditionalist, and while he didn’t expect the women to go full-on Victorian layered dresses, they were expected to hunt in skirts and men in pants. Thankfully, there had been three other women hunting that night and you had shared annoyances in the locker rooms as you changed. The cool autumn breeze wrapped around your bare legs and you suppressed a shiver. At least he had allowed you to wear a thick hunting coat to attempt to keep your body temperature even. You stood in a line with the other hunters for the evening, looking out at the field in front of you. There was a sprawling, bulking shadow that took up most of the horizon, but you couldn’t tell what it was, exactly. De Malle stood in front of you with a self-satisfied smile. His hands were clasped behind his back. Once everyone was settled, he gave a nod to one of his staff members. Suddenly, the shadow was illuminated by flickering sconces. It was a wide collection of stone walls, sprawled out beneath your vantage point.
“The maze,” De Malle began, “Was constructed by my grandfather as a celebration of his work when he retired. I am extremely excited to continue this family tradition among my close friends. The Prey has been released in the center of the maze.” He nodded to a table to his left. “Each of you will be granted a knife. No other weapons. The person who kills the Prey and brings me his heart gets the prize.” You felt excitement bubble in your chest. You didn’t really care about the prize, you didn’t even know what it was. You hadn’t had a kill in a while. You weren’t as blood-thirsty as Titus was, but tonight you wanted to be the one to win.
You followed behind Titus, dragging your finger along the cobbled walls of the maze. You had been wandering for thirty minutes. Titus had seen a half-formed footprint in the dust of the maze. He got that look on his face, clenched jaw, pinched mouth, and narrowed eyes. His knuckles were clenched as he stalked through the maze, ears pricked for any minute noise. You, on the other hand, felt restless. Energy prickled beneath your skin. Usually during partner hunts, Titus stole the show. You were just there, following him around and watching him with barely contained lust as he choked the life from an innocent being. But tonight was not one of those nights. Your fingers were itchy, running over the handle of the blade that swung at your hip. You took a deep breath and looked at your husband in front of you. You knew Titus needed the release of a kill, but he could do that any other night. Tonight, you wanted to take the kill. If you presented it correctly, Titus might actually allow you to take the glory. And you had an idea of how to make that happen in a way you’d both enjoy. Titus paused at an intersection and you ran your hand up his spine. You felt him tense under you.
“Titus.” You murmured, running your nose along his shoulder. Titus didn’t look back, just hummed in acknowledgement. He began to take a step, but your finger hooked through one of the belt loops on the back of his green cargo pants. He was pulled back into you. You nuzzled your face against his arm.
“What?” He said, voice a little gruff. He looked down at you over his shoulder. Not quite a glare, but it was clear he wasn’t fond of your interruption. You held it steadily, matching the intensity of his hazel eyes. But yours wasn’t a glare, it was a look of desperation. Of need. You removed the finger from the loop and let it drift to his front. You played with his belt buckle. Titus furrowed his brow and followed your movements with his eyes. “What are…baby,” he sighed “I’m a bit busy.”
“You’re too busy for your wife?” You frowned, pulling the tongue of his belt through the pronged buckle. Titus chuckled and shook his head. He removed your hands from his waist and turned to face you.
“That fucking needy, huh?” He growled, a condescending smirk on his lips. “Can’t wait ‘til we get home? You’re that fucking desperate for me?” His grip on your wrist tightened and he guided you until your back was pressed against the wall of the maze. You let out a small whimper, licking your lips and nodding enthusiastically. Titus leaned in, lips ghosting over yours. “Too bad.” He whispered, breath tickling the skin of your face. He ran his plush lips over your cheekbone. “You’re gonna have to wait.” He gave a dark chuckle and began to move away from you, but you grabbed a fistfull of his vest.
“Titus.” You bit out harshly. You threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him close to you. His hands immediately flew to your hips to steady himself. You pressed wet kisses to his jaw line and his neck, squirming against him. Titus let out a shaky breath when you nipped at the sensitive spot near his jugular, grip tightening and dominating aura faltering just slightly. “I need you.” You begged, licking a stripe up his neck. “I want to feel your cum dripping out of me while I kill that man. Have you leaking from my pussy while I carve his heart out.” Titus moaned, eyes squeezing shut and hips bucking involuntarily at your words. One of your hands dragged down his chest. You twisted your wrist and cupped his crotch. “Please.”
“F…Fuck.” Titus huffed, lips twitching and jaw slackening. “You’re so…fucking hell, sweetheart.” He pulled your hips against his and grinded against your palm.
“Take care of me, Titus. Fuck me and watch me win the hunt.” He whimpered.
“Yea, okay.” He swallowed and his eyes fluttered open. His pupils were blown. “But we gotta be quick, and quiet, okay? Don’t know who’s around.” You nodded and captured his mouth in a kiss. Titus bit at your lip, rolling his hips into yours. The kiss was immediately heated and you smiled into it. Titus always got insatiable when you actually showed a sliver of maliciousness. To the world, you were just some woman he decided to marry. To him, you were his perfect match, complimentary to him in every way. He knew you had something sinister in your soul, and when you outwardly expressed it, he went crazy.
Titus only pulled away when both of your lungs screamed for air. He kept his forehead pressed against yours and panted against your lips. His large hands groped your ass and you jumped. He locked your legs around his waist and he pressed you harder into the stone wall. His palms roved your thighs and your fingers tangled in his hair. “You really want to do this?” He asked, low and gravelly. His pupils were blown, almost black, from the combined low light and lust that consumed him. His bottom lip twitched slightly with every panted exhale. “Wanna show off for me? Prove you’re more than just a pretty face?” You nodded and smiled, nostrils flaring in excitement.
“I’ll kill the fucker all by myself.” You promised. “Let you watch, too. I know how much you love it.” You felt his cock pulse against your core and his breathing was heavy.
“Take what you need.” He told you and you wasted no time unbuckling the rest of his belt. You didn’t have time to fully get undressed, so you pushed Titus’ cargo pants halfway down his thighs. Just enough to take out his leaking cock. You shifted slightly and pulled your underwear to the side. Titus’ hands were busy holding you up, so you wrapped your palm around his hot, heavy length and lined it up with yourself. He pushed in slowly, eyes locked on your expression, taking in every subtle twitch of the muscles in your face as he filled you in one smooth thrust. “You’re so tight,” He murmured “And so wet. Been needin’ this all day? Huh, baby, have I been neglecting you?” He tutted at you condescendingly.
“Shut up.” you gasped out, feeling your walls spasm around him. He began to pull out and you whined at the loss of him, clutching at his shoulders.
“Oh, sorry, I thought you changed your mind, since you wanna talk shit.” He tilted his head, faux confusion rounding his eyes.
“‘M sorry.” “You’re sorry what?”
“I’m sorry, sir-” Your breath was punched out of your lungs by a sharp thrust.
“Atta girl. See how good it is when you play nice?” Titus chuckled, digging his hands into the meat of your ass. “You want it hard?” You nodded frantically. He widened his stance and braced you against the wall. He began jackrabbitting his hips into you, thick cock repeatedly spearing you open in rapid succession. Little mewls left your lips with every thrust. Titus dipped his head into your shoulder and bit down on your shirt to muffle his own grunts. His cheek rubbed against yours and the sensation of his stubble running against your smooth skin made you shiver. It only added to the way you felt completely surrounded by him. Your thighs slapped against his and your arousal dripped down his length.
“Titus!” You gasped when he angled you slightly differently and the head of his cock bruised the spot right in front of your cervix.
“That’s it, feel so good baby, doin’ so well. Takin’ it so well f’me.” His praises were muffled by your shirt, but they still sent flashes of arousal down your spine. “Need you to touch yourself. Don’t want to drop you.” You swallowed and shakily dipped a hand down to where you were joined. You rubbed tight circles around your clit, matching the pace at which Titus fucked you. It wasn’t long until you felt tightness coiling in your abdomen. You bit your lip to prevent your moans from escaping. Titus felt you were close. His back and knees hurt and sweat beaded at his temples, but he wouldn’t stop until he gave you what he needed. As sarcastic as he was, his primary goal in life was to take care of you in every aspect, including turning your brain into mush with his dick. You came together, Titus pushing into you as far as he could as you clenched down on him, trapping him inside you and milking him for all he was worth. Your combined heavy breathing filled the corridor and he stayed inside you until your sweat was cooled by the night air. His softened cock slipped from you and you gently wiped off the remaining beads of cum with your thumb before tucking him back into his pants. You brought your thumb to your mouth and sucked it clean. “Don’t do that,” Titus groaned “Gonna make me fuck you again.” “What a terrible thought.” You retorted sarcastically. He helped you unhook your legs from his waist and set you on the ground, offering his arm for stability as your shaking legs gained their purchase. You didn’t have long to recover, though.
A shuffling noise on the other side of the wall snapped your attention. You pulled Titus into a shadowed area and waited. Sure enough, a man limped past the opening of the corridor. You didn’t recognize him. The Prey. He had a gash on his leg, and one of his hands clutched at his side. He didn’t see you, just kept hurrying further into the maze. You shared a look with Titus and saw the hunger you felt reflected in his eyes. He gave your ass a tap and nodded.
“Go get him, sweetheart.” He smirked, canines poking out from beneath his lip. The perfectly white teeth glinted in the candlelight. You slunk along the wall of the maze, keeping low to the ground, predatory and animalistic. You allowed yourself to slip into the mindset of a hunter. The front of your brain sharpened into focus as you noticed a smear of blood on one of the corners. Your shoulder blades and hips loosely shifted as you crouched down. A shiver crawled up your spine as you began to feel cum pool in your underwear. Titus walked lazily behind you, watching your every movement with sharp, assessing eyes. You felt a little bit of pressure to perform, but you forced the worries away. You might be a bit rusty, but as long as you got results, you knew he would be pleased. You peaked around the corner and saw the Prey, leaning his shoulder against the wall trying to regain his breath. You forced down the growl of excitement that crawled up your throat. You positioned yourself to get a better angle before pushing yourself off the ground, sprinting towards the man and knocking your entire weight into him. It was more of a sliding tackle and you went for his waist as you pulled him to the ground. A man’s center of gravity was in his sternum. He wasn’t a small guy and if you had tried to jump on him, there was no way you would’ve been able to overpower him. But since you went lower, combined with his injury, he fell to the ground easily. He let out a yelp and you slid across the ground, getting your feet beneath you and pressing yourself up before he could recover. Your knees stung slightly, the gravel scraping your skin, but you ignored it. Titus rounded the corner and leaned his weight against the wall. His hands were in his pockets and he stayed back, monitoring in case you needed his assistance. But he knew you wouldn’t. So he just sat back and enjoyed the show.
To his credit, the Prey got up faster than you were expecting. He had fallen on his stomach and you hurried over to him, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt and trying to pull him onto his back so you could get to his chest. He swung an arm at you. You should have dodged, but you were a little rusty, and his elbow caught your nose. You cursed and your hand flew to your face. It gave him enough time to get to his feet and you followed suit. Anger and frustration bubbled in your throat and you widened your stance, glaring the man down. He looked at you for a moment and licked his lips. He threw the first punch. But you were ready for it. He had shifted his weight obviously before lunging at you and you swiftly dodged to the side. The momentum of the movement sent him stumbling forward and you were able to land a hit to his ribs- the side that he had been clutching at. An agonized groan fell from his lips. He doubled over, hand slapping against the wall to brace himself. You shifted behind him, awaiting his next move. You planned on using his weight against him. No need to overexert yourself and potentially get hurt. Titus had taught you how.
The man pounded his fist against the stone in anger and pain and whirled to face you. He snarled, gritting his teeth as he lunged again. You allowed yourself to relax your muscles and the man tackled you. He had expected more resistance, and together you tumbled over the ground. He had overjudged the force needed to tackle you and somersaulted with you. You hooked your legs around his weight and worked with the momentum to flip him onto his back. His hands went to your hips to try and get you off, but you kneed him in the crotch before he could. Another strangled sound of pain. It stopped him long enough for you to crawl up higher on his body, straddling his chest. Your thighs caged his shoulders and arms to his body. He struggled against you, but you pressed yourself down harder. There was no way he would be able to move. Your hand grabbed the blade’s handle and you unsheathed it. You held it up by your face before plunging it down in his throat. Quick. Precise. Deadly. Blood gushed immediately and you flinched slightly as it splattered against your jaw. You rubbed your lips together, trying to keep it from dripping into your mouth. You pressed the knife in deeper until the gurgling noises stopped. You took a deep breath and suddenly the adrenaline of the situation washed over you and you felt your hands begin to shake. You removed the blade with a grunt and slid off the man’s chest. You could do the heart extraction yourself. But you figured Titus deserved a treat. You got to your feet and smoothed off your skirt, practically skipping to where Titus stood. He was in the same position, resting against the wall, but his breathing was uneven, eyes locked on your every movement. You could see the prominent erection pushing against his pants. You sauntered over to him, hips swaying and knife dripping blood onto the ground as you walked. You splayed a hand on his chest and felt his heart battering against your palm. He swallowed and looked back at the body. His breath hitched and a strangled moan escaped his throat. You followed his gaze and smirked when you realized what he had seen. Right in the center of the man’s chest was a wet splotch, darkening the fabric of his shirt. It was resting exactly where your pussy had been. You had made good on your promise- Titus’ cum was, in fact, staining the corpse. You let out a little laugh and caught his jaw between your fingers. You forced him to look back at you. You raised the knife to your lips and kept eye contact as you slipped it into your mouth. You licked the blade clean, careful not to cut yourself, before handing it to him. Titus shook his head in disbelief. He captured your mouth in a starving kiss, lapping at your tongue to chase the flavor of the blood. He groaned primally when he found it. He swallowed your spit and moved his kiss along your jaw. His tongue sucked at the sprayed blood until your face was thoroughly cleaned.
“I don’t…I can’t even explain to you how hard I am right now. Shit.” He growled, eyes squeezed shut. You rubbed your palm along his clothed erection and he sighed in relief.
“Finish the job and we can go home. You can show me.” Titus nodded and kissed you again. Softer, similar to the way he kissed you goodbye every morning. He took the blade from your hand and gave your nose a little tap with it. He walked over to the body, kneeling beside it and running the tip of the blade through the wet spot you had left. He chuckled and shook his head. Then, he began to cut into the man’s chest.
“I’ll do the chef’s special tonight, please.” You said into the room phone, popping another strawberry into your mouth. “Thank you, sir. Bye.” You placed the phone back into its receiver and rolled yourself onto your stomach. You were laying on the bed of the hotel, fresh out of a bath and watching TV with a bowl of strawberries. The silk fabric of your bathrobe brushed softly against your skin as you settled back into your position, one of your legs hiked up closer to your body. Your arms snaked beneath the pillow that you rested your chin on. You rolled your eyes at the reality show contestant who was bearing his soul to the camera. “You shouldn't have said that dumb shit if you didn’t want her to leave you.” You muttered, shaking your head as you devoured another strawberry. You were in a hotel in Houston. Titus had a business meeting and, since you didn’t feel like spending the weekend alone and you had never been to the city, you decided to join him. You spent the day roaming around downtown, stopping into shops that lined the main street and taking pictures of the flower features. You had promised yourself that you would be good. It was only a two-day trip and you had packed a small duffle bag of clothes. You didn’t have a lot of space to fill with new things. Even though Titus probably would have told you to just buy another suitcase to take home. You tried to be mindful about your consumption. You didn’t have an overwhelming amount of clothes, but what you did have was the highest quality. You only allowed Titus to buy you material goods for birthdays and anniversaries. You wanted the quiet luxury of true wealth, not of a Real Housewife. You preferred experiences over gifts; would rather go to the brand new 5-star restaurant for dinner than get a different color of a bag you already had. You were better than that. The world was burning, after all. You did allow yourself one luxury today, though. You had walked past a nail salon and had promptly entered. You needed a new set anyway and you thought it would be a fun surprise for your husband. Long acrylics sometimes got in the way of your duties, but you weren’t aware of any planned hunts, so you decided to revitalize the extensions at the tips of your fingers.
The door clicked open. Your brow furrowed but you didn’t take your gaze off the TV screen. There was only one person who it could be, but you weren’t expecting Titus to be done so early. You heard the shuffling of his shoes as he made his way into the suite, keys clicking against the counter of the kitchenette. You were sprawled on the bed and facing away from the door of the suite, so you only realized his presence when you felt the dip of the bed behind you. You turned your head over your shoulder. Sure enough, Titus sat there, taking off his shoes.
“Hi, honey,” You said with a grin, shifting slightly to offer him the bowl. “Strawberry?” He lifted his head to look at you. He looked a little tired. It was only just before dinner time, but the meeting must have drained him. You knew that he was looking to build a new casino resort outside the city and there was a lot still to do. But the dazed exhaustion in his eyes sharpened when he looked at you. His jaw tightened as he paused to take you in. You were completely naked underneath the robe and it was doing a poor job of concealing you. Your robe had come open at the chest, the slope of your breast tantalizingly close to spilling from the fabric. And since one of your legs was tucked close to your chest, the hem of the robe rode up your thigh, giving him an unrestricted view of your pussy. His lips twitched in a smirk.
“Sure.” He took the bowl from you and ate a berry before setting the porcelain on the bedside table. Titus shifted himself closer to you on the bed and settled a heavy hand on your bare thigh. His fingers ran up your leg and eventually grazed your folds. You sucked in a breath and opened your mouth but Titus clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Watch your show.” You turned back around, chin back on the pillow, but you lifted your hips a bit to give his fingers better access. “How was your day, baby?” Titus hummed, dragging a dampened finger down to your clit. He began to rub loose, lazy circles.
“It was good,” You sighed, a little hum of pleasure leaving your lips as the tip of his finger stretched your opening. “I walked around the shopping center.”
“Yea?” You could hear Titus’ voice light up. He loved when you spent his money. It made him feel needed. “You get anything for me?” You smiled and pushed yourself up, ignoring Titus’ frown when his fingers slipped out of you. You sat next to him and held up your hands to him so he could look at your nails.
“Got a fresh set.” You bit your lip with excitement as he took your hands in his. He appraised them with utmost seriousness. They were deep red and filed to a sharp point, perfectly reflecting the shining ceiling light. On your left ring finger, in fine silver paint, was a small T. You didn’t always get Titus’ initial or the pointed style, but an idea had come to you in the salon. “Do you like them?”
“I love them.” He confirmed, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He brushed his thumb over the nail with his initial. “What’s this for?”
“It’s a T. For Titus.”
“Yea, I gathered that,” He rolled his eyes. “But what’s it for? Did I do something worthy of a reward?”
“It’s so people know who I belong to.” You dropped your voice to a sultry whisper. His eyes flicked up to meet yours.
“I think the carat on your finger does a pretty good job.” He countered, but there was an edge to his voice. His eyes were half-lidded and he licked his lips. He liked it. Good.
“Just in case.” You said quietly. Titus hummed and pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was unhurried and sensual. When you licked against his lips, he parted them for you and his hand squeezed your thigh. You pulled back and gave him the most seductive look you could muster. He got the hint and stood up. You watched with hungry eyes as he unbuckled his belt and pushed down his pants. He pulled his shirt over his head with one hand and crawled over you. But you pushed at his chest. “Sit against the headboard.” Excitement lit up his gaze and he nodded. As he moved the pillows and got settled, you tugged the string of your robe, letting it fall off your shoulders and crumple on the floor. You kept your eyes on Titus the entire time, seeing his eyes widen and his breathing quicken when you bared yourself to him. You straddled him, taking his cheeks in your palms. You let your thumb graze his plump bottom lip, pulling it down slightly so that you could see a sliver of his canines. You leaned back in to kiss him again. Titus’ hands went straight to your hips as you began to grind on him, running your core over his slowly (but surely) hardening cock. A wet spot formed on his boxers. A mixture of his precum and your slick. Whereas the kiss before had been loving, this one was lustful. Wet tongues and nipping teeth and swallowed moans from both of you.
You captured his bottom lip in your teeth and clawed your sharp nails down his freckled chest, pressing just enough to leave instant angry red marks.
“Shit.” Titus hissed, but you felt him twitch against your thigh. You ran your nails down his abdomen a few more times, creating a lattice of scratches. You pulled back and admired your canvas, heaving and quivering beneath you, desperate for attention. The scratches you had given him were in a distinct pattern. Your initial. You hummed with appreciation as you gripped onto his pecs, kneading the flesh between your fingers. Your thumbs swiped over his nipples and he let out a shuddering breath. A light chuckle left your throat as you leaned in against his ear. You kissed his temple.
“Now people know who you belong to.” You murmured, grazing your teeth against his earlobe.
“You.” He nodded, bucking his hips into you. “I’m yours.”
“Prove it.” You challenged, sitting back on his lap and running your thumb over his cheek. He was on you in an instant, practically tackling you back onto the mattress. His mouth went for your throat, sucking and nipping down to your collar bones and eventually locking his mouth around one of your nipples. His hands ran up the side of your torso and flicked your other nipple with his thumb. He spent several minutes like that, just sucking hickeys into your chest and running his tongue along the expanse of your skin. Titus licked and pawed at you until you were squirming and mewling his name.
“You want something?” He mumbled, not lifting his head as he kissed the side of your breast. He sounded annoyed at your interruption. And yet, he otherwise seemed unbothered as he slowly explored your body. He showed incredible restraint, because you felt how painfully hard he was against your hip.
“Want you.” You keened, rolling your hips into his and rambling. “Want you t’fuck me.” And then, out of no where, “I want you to fill me up n’ fuck a baby into me.” Titus stilled above you. His head slowly raised to catch your eyes. Embarrassment cut through the hazy headspace of your pleasure. You weren’t really sure why you had said that. You and Titus never really talked about kids. You knew that, conceptually, you would one day have to continue the Danforth line. But you never actually discussed a timeline, or if that was even something he truly wanted. You knew Titus had issues with fatherhood. But you would be lying if you said you never considered it. And in the moment, it seemed like the right thing to say. Titus blinked at you. “Sor-” your apology was cut off by a fevered kiss.
“Oh, I’ll fill you up,” Titus growled as his tongue plunged into your mouth. “Fill you up so much you’ll be dripping for days. S’that what you want? For me to keep you bred and happy? Oh, I'd love to. All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” You whined at his rambled words and he shoved his boxers down. He didn’t give you time to say anything else before he pushed himself into you. Your nails dug into his shoulder and you saw blood begin to pearl there. Titus shuddered. He didn’t start gently. Instead, he immediately pulled all the way back out before slamming back into you. The sudden sensation was so overwhelming, you didn’t notice Titus gathering your legs in his hands. He pushed your knees to your chest, ankles around his ears as he put his full weight into you. He braced himself by planting his hands by your head, but not before interlacing his fingers between your left hand and bringing it up with him. The one with your wedding ring and the small brand on your nail. Your eyes widened and your jaw slackened. He was so thick and deep inside your cunt you could feel him in your stomach. You let out a broken noise and Titus laughed breathily through parted lips. “Feel that?” He cooed, giving a small roll of his hips. You groaned at the way his cock kissed your cervix. Your head lolled to the side, forehead resting against his veiny forearm. His thighs were flush against your ass and you could feel his coarse pubic hair brushing against your clit. You felt so utterly full. And when he began thrusting again, you fisted the sheets.
“Ti…Titus…I-” You gasped, shaking your head. Your body jerked along the surface of the bed with each snap of his hits.
“You can take it.” He rumbled, picking up his pace. “I know you can.” You were too blissed out to muffle your moans and your pornographic noises joined the chorus of skin slapping. Between the borderline painful stretch of your walls against his thick cock, the feeling of his pubic bone bumping your swollen clit, and the sound of Titus grunting with exertion, your orgasm was building fast. You made eye contact with him with lidded, fucked-out eyes and he held it. “You’re takin’ me so well, honey,” he assured you, tilting his head to kiss your ankle bone. “Gonna cum with me? Yea? Please?” You gave a small nod and squeezed his hand. Titus’ head dipped back slightly, screwing his eyes shut and biting down on his lip. The pleasure was overwhelming and with one more nudge of his cock against your bladder, you came with a cry. Your free hand flew up to his hair for some tether to this reality. When he felt you tug on his curls, Titus’ eyes flew open and he came immediately, hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside your wet heat. Titus pulled in deep breaths, letting out strained groans as he rode out his release. You pulled him into a kiss. Brief, but necessary, before he collapsed onto you. As you both regained your wits, you ran your nails in soft circles. Soothing instead of scratching. You allowed your eyes to close and enjoyed the sensation of the wetness of your combined arousal dripping out of your pussy. You felt fulfilled.
After a few moments, you felt Titus’ fingers rub your clit. You yelped and tried to shift away from him, but he pinned you down with his weight. “Titus.” You whined, tapping his shoulders.
“Shh,” He soothed, kissing your neck. He lifted his head to look at you. You felt arousal spark again when you saw the lust still in his eyes. “You gotta cum again. Gotta make sure it takes.”
“I think, mmh, that’s a myth.” You squirmed again. Though, this time, you were trying to get closer to the pleasurable sensation building in your abdomen.
“Can’t take any chances.” He whispered. He tilted his head slightly and widened his eyes, tilting his eyebrows slightly upwards in the puppy-dog expression he knew would make you fold. “Please?” You pressed your lips together and rolled your eyes.
“Fine.” You muttered and a self-satisfied grin replaced his little pout. You felt his spent cock twitch back to life inside of you. You quirked an eyebrow. “Hard again already? Getting off on the idea of knockin’ me up? You’re such a perv.”
“Keep going, I'm close.” Titus quipped back. But it was true. The idea of giving you a baby, tying you to him forever (even though you were already married and your souls were condemned together), made his heart, and cock, throb with excitement and determination. Soft moans dropped from your lips as he worked you up to the edge, rolling his hips gently. He knew that like this, he could hit that sweet spot perfectly. “You’re so beautiful.” He said to himself. And you were, gleaming with sweat and huffing with arousal, sweet noises engraving themselves into his brain. He continued his movements as if it was his life’s duty to make you cum. If it was up to him, it would be.
The door to the room clicked open. Titus’ eyes snapped up immediately, pausing his movements and earning a frustrated whine from you. A startled young woman walked in, carrying a dinner tray. She froze in the doorway with a floundering expression, mouth open and closing, unsure what to do. Your eyes opened at the abrupt stop in stimulation. You noticed Titus wasn’t looking at you and followed his gaze. You yelped in surprise when you saw the staff member and moved to cover yourself. Titus’ face turned into a snarl.
“Get the fuck out!” He snapped airily, looking at her like she was the dumbest person to ever exist. She nodded immediately, placing the tray on the ground and practically sprinting back into the hall. The door closed behind her with a loud thud. Titus scoffed and shook his head. He looked back at you with burning fury. “I can’t fucking believe it. I should…” He let out a puff of air.
“You should what?” You asked quickly, licking your lips and eagerly awaiting his response. Titus raised a brow and a mischievous smile played on his face. He rolled his hips again and resumed stroking your clit. Tighter, more precise, rapidly rebuilding your orgasm.
“I should twist her head off for daring to interrupt us. For catching a glimpse of my wife.” He growled, thrusts becoming more erratic. Your legs began to shake underneath him and the familiar fuzzy warmth began to tighten in front of your tailbone. Your walls fluttered around him at his words.
“Yea?” Titus breathed “You like the idea of me killing someone for looking at you?” You didn’t trust your brain to properly form a sentence, so you did the next best thing. You clenched your walls around him as hard as you could. Titus hissed. “Oh, fuck!” The words were guttural, barely human, completely filled with adoration and pleasure. You pulled Titus close to you as you both hurdled closer to the edge. You came together, Titus painting your already sopping cunt and you milking him for all he was worth.
“Can I watch?” You panted out after a few moments. Titus laughed and kissed your forehead.
“Always.”
The soles of your sneakers slapped against the wet pavement. You were walking in the park, enjoying the way the frogs sang to you in the summer night air. You tried to keep your steps evenly paced, tried to walk normally down the empty walkway lined with bushes and trees. But you could not dampen the anxious, almost painful, thrashing of your heart against your lower ribcage. It was a primal, instinctual sort of fear. The lamp lights were on, but sparsely illuminated the walking path. There were large gaps of shadows between each post. You had the urge to sprint between the puddles of light, but it was silly to think someone would just…grab you from the street. You stepped into a shadowed patch. Suddenly, you felt a hand clamp down around your mouth, pressing your lips closed and muffling the scream that purged from you. It jerked you back and you collided with a warm mass. You thrashed beneath the force, but the stranger was too strong. You heard a deep voice hushing you. A prick at your neck. And your eyelids became too heavy to hold up, plunging you into unconsciousness.
The warm morning light cast shadows over your bed. You and Titus spent most mornings like this, half-awake and tangled up in each other. Your leg was thrown haphazardly over his hip and his arms pressed you close to his chest. Your breathing was synced, hearts lazily beating against each other. You nuzzled against his broad torso, taking a deep and soothing breath. You smelled the laundry detergent on his shirt, the left over traces of shampoo, and the underlying scent that was purely Titus.
“I know what I want for our anniversary,” You said, voice a little muffled by his chest. Titus didn’t move, just let out an inquiring hum. “I want to go to the Room.” You felt him shift at that, pulling back slightly and looking down at you with confusion-drawn brows.
“What do you mean?”
“As the victim.” Titus’ eyes widened and he took a deep breath.
“I dont think-”
You cut him off. “Don’t worry. You won’t actually hurt me. It’ll be like a roleplay. Something we can enjoy together.”
“O..kay.” Hesitation still filled his words, but you gave him your best begging eyes. “You know what to do. I’ll take a look and see if it’s something we can accomplish.” You nodded and pressed your face back against him, eager to get every quiet moment before your day officially started.
Roleplay wasn’t new in yours and Titus’ relationship. Most often, it was a simple exchange: pretending to be strangers meeting at one of his hotels during his business trips. Sometimes it was a little more detailed. Once, Titus had asked you to play nurse. You thought it would be a mental exercise, so you were taken aback a bit when you actually had to give him stitches on a self-inflicted knife wound. You were a bit hesitant to continue, but when you saw the pleading in his eyes, you recalled your basic first aid training and patched him up as best you could before he could actually see a doctor. He tore through the stitches that night, of course, at some point during the three times he came deep inside you. After that, you allowed yourself to consider the more…dark…roleplay ideas that swirled in your mind. Each time that either of you had an idea, Titus or you would write up an extremely detailed proposal for the scene. And your anniversary idea had been no different. After a few months of discussing and tweaking details for the comfortability of both parties, you and Titus had agreed on a day.
When you blinked awake, the light above your head pierced into your eyesockets. You let out a groan and shifted. Your movements were restrained and you quickly realized your ankles and wrists were bound to a chair.
“Oh, good, the princess is awake.” A voice sneered from the other side of the room. His back was turned to you, but you could identify the slope of those shoulders and the color of those curls anywhere. Titus was hunched over a small tool bench. You blinked away the lingering blurriness and took in your surroundings. You had never actually been in the Room while Titus was using it. You just made sure everything was sufficiently cleaned up after. It acted as a rage room for him. Except instead of breaking dishes, he broke bones. The sawdust floor caused particles to catch the light of the singular overhead lamp. You sat on a wooden chair, wrists roped to the armrests and ankles tied to the legs. You noted that the rope wasn’t just the regular hardware store grade. You recognized it from when Titus wanted to try Shibari a few years prior. It was soft against your skin and if you really needed to, you could break loose. But the view across from you caught you off guard. Another chair mirrored yours. Sitting in it was a man in his underclothes. The rope binding him to the chair was scratchy and circulation-restricting. He had duct tape over his mouth. His eyes were wild and flicked from you to Titus rapidly. You were surprised. In your scene write-up, you had mentioned that you wanted to see Titus in his element. You wanted to watch him torture someone genuinely and without holding back. Titus had been very unsure about it. Even after all this time and all the things you had been through together, he was scared of revealing that side of himself to you. He knew how brutally carried away he could get, and he hesitated to show you just what kind of monster you had vowed to love. But he had promised to think about it at least. And you were elated that he had decided to indulge. Titus turned to face you, leaning his waist back onto the table. He fiddled with a knife in his hand. “You know, pretty girls like you shouldn’t be walking all alone at night.” He gave a faux pout and tilted his head condescendingly. “There’s dangerous men out there.”
“Please…” You begged softly, eyes widening with fear. “Please don’t hurt me. You don’t have to do this.” Titus let out a dark laugh. A rumbling chuckle that you had never heard before. It settled in your bone marrow and made apprehension shiver up your spine.
“Why are you doing this? What do you want? You don’t have to hurt me. I’ll be good.” He mocked “At least come up with something fucking original.” You blinked back tears.
“I…Who is that?” You nodded at the man in the chair across from you.
“Some guy who owes me money.” Titus shrugged. He crossed the room and pressed the tip of the knife into the man’s tear-stained cheek. “Someone who likes the ponies but doesn’t have the assets to back his bets.” The man whimpered at the sensation of the blade pressing into his skin.
“B-But you don’t need his money, you're a Danforth. You don’t have to hurt him.” You pleaded, struggling weakly against your restraints. Titus stiffened and a small smirk twitched at his mouth.
“You know who I am.” It wasn’t a question. More of an amused observation.
“Of course. Everyone knows who you are.” Your voice faltered as Titus walked over to you. He used the tip of the knife to lift your chin. You looked up at him through tear-spiked eyelashes. “You’re the most powerful man in the world.” Your words were whispered but landed with the intended impact. Titus puffed out his chest slightly. He hummed with approval and slid the knife away from your chin. “W-Why am I here? I’m not…I don’t know him.”
“Wrong place, wrong time.” Titus said simply. “I got this idiot and I saw you walking all alone. And I just couldn’t help myself.” He ran two fingers over your cheek before smooshing the other side with his thumb, causing your lips to pucker. He was wearing black nitrile gloves and the smooth coolness of the material against your skin made you shiver. Titus leaned down closer and nudged your nose with his. “M’always lookin’ for a pretty thing to show off for.” You forced yourself to recoil, actively ignoring the wetness that was forming between your thighs.
“Fucking creep.” You spat, jerking away from him. Titus frowned and stood up. He looked down at you and his nose twitched. His pupils were blown and the muscle of his jaw popped. His hands went to your throat, turning your head and squeezing the sides of your neck. You coughed at the harshness of his hold.
“Here’s how this is gonna go,” He hissed in your ear, forcing you to look at him. “You’re going to watch me take care of my buddy here. And then you’re going to reconsider how nice you want to be to me. Okay?” You let out a whimper as he squeezed his fingers harder. Titus dropped his grip and rolled his shoulders, rounding the chair and walking back to the table. He spread his hands on the table and took a deep breath, considering his options. He cracked his gloved fingers and rolled his shoulders, stretching the muscles there.
He settled on a hammer. He gently tapped it against his palm experimentally and turned on his heel, lazily approaching the other chair. The man jerked against his restraint, continuous pleas muffled by the duct tape. Titus didn’t waste any time. The first hit of the hammer was to the man’s kneecaps. Titus put his entire body weight behind the strike, swinging it almost like a tennis racket against the side of the man’s leg. He tilted his head and pursed his lips at the man’s screech of agony and the cracking of the bone. He subtly looked over his shoulder to gauge your reaction. At first, you were too focused on the way Titus’ powerful muscles rippled beneath his shirt with the movement. But then you remembered your role.
“Stop!” You cried, lunging forward against your restraints. You were impressed with how emotional you were able to make your words. You almost sounded like you really cared. “Please! You don’t have to-” Titus cut off your words with another strike of the hammer, this time against the man’s lower thigh. The thump was softer. Meatier.
“The femur is the strongest bone in the body,” Titus huffed, slightly winded from the exertion. He wasn’t as young as he used to be. “You could theoretically hang a 200 pound weight from the middle and it wouldn’t break.” Another hit to the side of the man’s leg. Tears were streaming from his eyes and his head was thrown back. His entire body quivered beneath Titus. “But, if you repeatedly-” another blow “hit” another “the right” another “spot,” Titus raised the hammer higher, putting even more force into the strike. He brought it down like a pickaxe, swinging into the top of the man’s leg. You heard a sickening crack. “It can fracture.” The man’s curdling scream breached the barrier around his mouth. Titus stepped back and rose to his full height, turning to face you with a sickening grin. “Not a clean break, but enough to immobilize.” The shocked expression on your face was genuine. A tear slipped from your eye.
“Y-You made your point,” you said shakily “You can let us go now.” Titus gave a disappointed sigh.
“Thought you were smarter than that, baby,” He shook his head and looked back at his victim, whose eyes were fluttering. He was struggling to stay conscious as his leg rested at a broken angle, blood from his crushed knee dripping down his leg and staining his sock. When Titus noticed the man’s wavering consciousness, he slapped him across the face. Hard. The man jolted up and looked up at Titus with wet eyes. “You like race horses. Surely you know what happens to one when it breaks a leg.” He pouted. The man’s eyebrows pinched together in a pleading expression as he shook his head ‘no’. Titus nodded with a smile. “Yea.” he confirmed. He turned the hammer around to wield the pronged side. The usually dull forks were sharpened to points. “Say ‘hi’ to Secretariat for me.” His mouth pinched together as he swung the prongs into the side of the man’s neck. The forks lodged themselves into the man’s jugular and blood sprayed from the site. It splattered onto Titus’ forearm. He only released his grip on the handle when the man’s head lolled to the side, eyes dulling as the remnants of his life gushed from his neck and pooled in the sawdust below. Titus wiped the blood from his gloved hand onto his jeans, leaving a dark smear on the fabric. A few moments passed where Titus’ heavy breathing was the only sound that filled the empty air. Then, he turned to you and smirked. You startled under his heated, heavy gaze.
“Are you ready for your turn?” His voice was deep, gravelly, and you’d be lying if it didn’t send a flicker of fear through your chest. You trusted Titus completely, and you weren’t a stranger to the menacing look he was wearing. But it was the first time you’d been on the receiving end of it. An all-consuming depraved and unpredictable hunger that overrode any trace of the man who worshiped you. It was so intense that you didn’t have to fake the tears that dripped from your eyes. You shook your head rapidly, biting down on your lip.
“Please,” You choked out. “Please don’t.” Your eyes flicked to the hammer. Titus tossed the weapon to the ground and his lips peeled back. You realized he was smiling.
“Don’t worry,” He cooed, the light of the lamp reflecting off his canine teeth. “I’ve got different toys just for you.” You were confused when he untied you. Your limbs were still a little fuzzy from the sedative so Titus pulled you up from the chair. He grabbed your middle and flung you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You out a little yelp at the unexpected motion. He carried you into a small storage room in the barn, kicking in the door and laying you across a table. You felt the cold steel through the thin layer of your clothes. You weren’t unbound for long. Titus flipped you over onto your stomach and manhandled your arms so they were behind you. He tied your wrists back together. He leaned down next to your ear. “You gonna be nice to me, or do I need to tie your ankles, too?” You shook your head.
“I-I’ll be good, I promise.” You felt him smile as he kissed your shoulder. He pushed your legs beneath you so that you were kneeling on the table, ass up, but your cheek still rested on the cold metal. The hem of your skirt tickled the back of your bare thighs. Titus flipped up your skirt so it rested on your waist. Titus groaned when he saw the inside of your thighs were glistening with your slick and the crotch of your underwear was practically transparent. “You’re sick,” He chuckled deeply, running a gloved finger up your inseam. “Soaking yourself while watching me torture someone. Tell me,” His fingers drew closer to your pulsing cunt and you felt your clit twitch. “Was it the blood? The bones cracking? What about it made your pussy wet?”
“N-No,” You denied. “M’not- I don’t-” You meant to say that you hated it, play a bit more into the fantasy, but your words were cut off when you felt his fingers push your underwear to the side and stretch the opening of your cunt. You let out a high-pitched whine. The smoothness of the glove made it easy for two of his fingers to go to the knuckle.
“Mhm, sure.” Titus rolled his eyes. “That’s why you're dripping down my wrist.” He slid his fingers in and out lazily, smiling at the way your breathing hitched with each curl of him against your walls. You cried out when he removed himself from you and he watched you clench around nothing. “Relax,” he scoffed, “we’re gonna have some more fun. Just gotta do some things first.” You heard some clattering behind you. You gasped when you felt the cool sharpness of a blade run down your side. “Don’t move.” Titus mumbled as he cut your clothes away from you. The scraps of fabric fell away and the night air raised goosebumps on your skin. He threw your overclothes to the side and carefully unclipped your bra (you had told him that bras were too expensive to cut away) and tossed that on the pile. You were left just in your underwear. But Titus didn’t cut those. He pulled them down and adjusted you so he could take them off in one piece. He used the fabric to wipe away the blood on his forearm. After running it gently over the length of his arm, he brought it to his face and kissed it. He tucked them into his waistband.
You were fully bare now. Titus pulled you up to a kneeling position and told you to hold it for a few moments. He rounded the table to your front. He was holding a pair of small clamps, connected together by a golden chain. You swallowed and your chest heaved. Titus reached for your breast. You jerked back instinctively, which was a mistake. His eyes snapped to yours and frustration twitched on his face. He landed an open-palmed smack to your ass. The action made you gasp and push your tits out. “I told you not to move.” He scolded. He roughly grabbed one of your breasts and pinched the nipple between two of his fingers. He had taken off his gloves and the warmth of his fingers against your nipple made you bite your lip. Titus bent forward, swirling his tongue and sucking until it was sufficiently pebbled. He kissed across your chest until his mouth found the other nub. He repeated the motion until both of your nipples were pointed and aching. Only then did he pull back and open the clamps. The prongs had little rubber coverings at the end. You only realized what they were for when he clipped them simultaneously to your nipples. You let out a whine at the sensation of them digging into you. You squirmed a little but eventually, the pain turned into pleasure. With each breath, the connecting chain shifted against your sensitive skin, which only heightened the sensations. When you stopped squirming, Titus smirked. He leaned in and gave you a sloppy kiss, leading with his tongue. He licked at your mouth and ran his tongue against yours, exploring every inch. It took everything in you not to reciprocate the passion. But when Titus’ hand settled on the back of your head and pushed you needily further into his face, you broke a bit. You moved your lips against his, moaning into his mouth. His other hand ran down the side of your hip and dipped between your thighs. He groaned when his fingers slipped against your cunt. Titus broke the kiss.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He breathed, bottom lip trembling slightly with the exhale. “You ready f’me?” You gave a small nod and he began kissing down your throat and onto your back. He walked back behind you and pressed your torso back down. His hands rested on your hips and helped you scoot back so that your feet dangled over the edge. Titus worked quickly, shucking his shirt over his head and pushing his jeans down to his knees. His cock was painfully hard, had been since he first connected the hammer to the man’s knees and heard your cry of fear. His boxers had been sticky with the amount of precum leaking from his head and he shuddered when the air met the wetness of his cock. Titus pushed into you, filling your sweet cunt with one movement. You gasped and dug your fingers into your restrained palms. You felt his hips flush against yours. He didn’t give you time to adjust to him before he began to move. “Feel s’good, baby,” he panted, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Obscene wet noises joined the chorus of your moans and Titus’ grunts. He used the grip on your hips to fuck you on his thick cock, almost completely removing himself and then burying himself to the hilt with every thrust. Each brush of his cock against your sweet spot made a breathy moan drop from your lips, a sound Titus wanted on repeat. You were practically dripping onto the steel table and your arousal settled into a creamy ring around the base of Titus’ length. He repositioned himself so that he could free one of his hands and reach around your hip. You jolted against him when you felt the first swipe of his finger along your clit. He knew exactly what pace and what shapes had you mewling beneath him, and he wasn’t gentle about building your release. He went straight for the most mind-numbing stimulation he could think of. “I can feel you squeezin’ me,” He panted, pounding into you harder “I know you’re close. Let go. Cum for me.”
“Mm-I can’t, Titus!” You gasped, shaking your head and feeling drool dribble from the corner of your mouth. It was too much. Every nerve in your body was alight and, though you could feel the band tightening in your belly, your mind was too overstimulated to focus on it. It was only made worse when Titus smacked your ass hard. You felt the flesh tingle where each of his five fingers individually hit.
“You can and you will,” Titus growled, baring his teeth. “Prove to me how much you love me. How much you love taking this dick.” You let out a loud whine. Each punch of his cock forced air from your lungs and the minor oxygen deprivation made your body tingle. It was enough for your orgasm to build and it crashed through you brutally. You cried out, tears streaming from your eyes and legs shaking violently as you clenched around him. You felt your release further coat your thighs and Titus kissed down your spine as he fucked you through the orgasm. Emotion built in your chest and you felt a sob tumble from your throat. You took a big shaky breath and felt another wave of tears break. You needed to hold him close to your chest. Needed to look at him. Needed his praise in the moment. You struggled against your restraints.
“P-Printer.” You gasped out, loud enough for Titus to hear you. He stopped immediately and pulled out.
“Honey?” He asked gently, concern filling his voice at the use of your safe word. He walked to the side of the table where your face was, crouching down to your level and pushing your hair out of your eyes. His gaze searched your face as you cried. “Oh my god, baby, fuck, I’m-I’m so sorry.”
“N-Need to be on my back.” You sniffled. Your hips were screaming and your nipples were numb from the clamps. Titus nodded and undid the knot at your wrists. He gently rolled you over and took off the nipple clamps, throwing them to the side like they had personally offended him. When you were on your back and your legs were in a more comfortable position, you grabbed Titus’ hand. You took a few calming breaths and Titus rubbed circles into your palm.
“What happened?” He asked gently. “Was…Was I too rough? I’m sorry I didn’t-”
“I’m fine,” you assured him, blinking away the remaining tears. “I just want to see you. Wanna have my hands in your hair when you cum in me.” Titus’ mouth twitched and his eyes were wide with uncertainty.
“We don’t have to continue if it was too much for you. We can stop. Take a bath and watch something.”
“Please, Titus,” You urged, running your hand down his chest “Need you to fill me up.” He didn’t seem convinced, worry still rounding his eyes. You pulled him into a gentle kiss. “Please.” He sighed against your lips and nodded.
“I’ll be gentle.” He promised as he climbed back on top of you. He re-entered you slowly, watching your face closely for any discomfort, but found only a look of pleasure as you stretched around him. He rolled his hips slowly, only picking up the pace when you dug your heels into his ass.
“Please,” you keened “I need you so bad.” Titus furrowed his brows.
“W’d’you mean, sweetheart?” He mumbled in confusion “You got me. I’m right here. I’ve got you.” You shook your head with a needy whine.
“N-Need you closer.” You clawed at his back and pulled him close to you so that his full weight was on top of you. His head nestled into the crook of your neck and he continued fucking into you. Your fingers tangled in the silver curls at the nape of his neck. You pulled your knees closer to your chest and the new angle made you feel even more full of him. “I f-fucking love you so much.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” He confessed against your skin “I love you more than everything.” His thrusts got sloppier with each passing moment. You knew he was close and you allowed your walls to grip him tighter, drawing another moan right against your ear. You bit down on his shoulder and dug your nails into his back. Titus whimpered at the sensation and pushed himself as far into you as he could, emptying himself deep within you. He gasped as he rode out his own release before settling heavy on top of you. His warmth and the pressure of his body soothed you in a way that only he could provide. You kissed at the imprint your teeth left in the meat of his muscle. Titus lifted his head and kissed your lips romantically, soft pecks and little licks. You let your head rest against his and closed your eyes, feeling exhaustion settle into every corner of your mind and body.
“Mm-mm,” He hummed, shaking his head. He removed his softening cock and the loss of him made you pout. “Don’t fall asleep here. Gotta get you back and cleaned up. You think you can do that for me?” You sighed and nodded. Titus pulled up his pants and helped you pull his shirt over your naked frame. He’d come and clean up tomorrow, but right now, you were his top priority. He curled an arm beneath your knees and picked you up, pressing you against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and settled into the position. You closed your eyes as Titus carried you back to the house. You gave him a sweet smile and mumbled your gratitudes into his chest. You didn’t see it, but Titus smiled, too. A rare, genuinely fond smile only reserved for you.
“You’re welcome, honey. I love you, too.”
ITS HERE OMG I CANT WAIT TO READ LATER
Cosign.
Reblog if you have never in your life sent a mean anon message.
🜍 ⟡ ⟢
loved your modern mafia Aemond fic, would you pretty please ever do another one. Where he was childhood friends with Oc she moved away after her parents saw his growing obsession but she had no idea, Aemond turned to violence to cope joined a gang and by the time he was teen/young adult he had taken over and made it more powerful and feared. That's when he uses his men and connections to Hunt her down and finds her, gets angry when she is dating/engaged/married killed her man a cop and took her. Hope it's an okay idea. Hope you like X
Missing Childhood Friends -Mafia!Aemond
It’s not overly Mafia oriented but I wanted to make something sweet since I don’t do that often. It didn’t turn out as dark as the ask however I am wanting to do a part 2 that is substantially darker so either way I hope you love it!
She was stunned to see the message from Aemond online, she hadn’t seen him since she moved away when they were 11 and she had missed him awfully yet her parents never let her write to him. She would have thought that Aemond would have forgotten her by now but clearly not and she couldn’t resist texting the number he gave her, agreeing to meet for lunch that day.
Aemond, upon gaining control of the Mafia in his city had one goal in mind, finding his Queen. He had been looking for her for years and thanks to his new connections he had found her and eventually found her online as well. He invited her out, knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist seeing him and would give him the chance to win her over.
‘Aemond?’ She questioned as she walked into the expensive restaurant, the eyepatch giving away who he was as if the silver hair didn’t. ‘Holy shit! Look at you, handsome as ever! I’ve missed you!’ She grinned, hugging him tightly and feeling his arms tighten around her.
‘I’ve missed you too gorgeous! It’s been way too long…come! Come sit! We have so much to talk about!’
And Aemond was right, they ended up sitting there for 4 hours and just talking.
‘I wish we’d stayed friends, maybe everything wouldn’t have sucked so badly for both of us if we weren’t alone.’ Y/n considered and Aemond knew it was the perfect time for the truth…
‘I agree, maybe if your parents weren’t so threatened we could have grown up together.’ He said it as if tossing it casually in her direction for her to question on her own.
‘Wait…my parents? What-What did they do?’
‘They moved you away from me because they knew how in love with you I was…they were so honest about it, I just assumed that they told you the truth…guess not. I’m sorry Bunny-I didn’t-‘
‘No…No, it’s not your fault, I…stay still and smile.’ She told him, taking a picture and texting it to her mom. ‘Look who I ran into! What are the odds?’ She giggled. ‘I can’t wait to see her response.’
‘You’re an evil little thing, aren’t you?’
‘I don’t think I’m evil…dark sense of humor definitely but evil? No.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be evil for the both of us. Now you can stay though, I’ve missed you for far too long. I will be happy to have you back.’ He told her, reaching out and taking her hand in his, caressing it with his thumb though he hesitated when she pulled back, her face falling.
‘Aemond…I’m so sorry…I have a fiancée…we-we’re getting married in the Summer. Maybe if I’d stayed it would be different, I always thought that you and I…doesn’t matter now. I’m sure you have a much more successful relationship.’ Aemond was seeing red, he could feel the anger rising in his chest and he just wanted to kill someone-anyone-everyone!
‘Really? With this face that only a mother could love? That’s crazy.’ He joked but she didn’t seem to enjoy it.
‘Don’t you ever say that again! You are lovely Aemond! You think just because of an eye patch-‘
‘You are not most women, my love. You were there with me when it happened, you knew me before, with new women…it’s all they see…who is this…man? What is he like?’ He wondered, trying to get information about him so that he could find him later and get rid of him.
‘Oh. He’s a cop, he’s sweet, though he works long hours…he thinks I’m too trusting, too kind. He believes I view the world through rose tinted glasses-‘
‘You do. That’s what’s so wonderful about you. It’s good that you have someone to protect you.’ She shook her head at that.
‘No, he believes that I need to learn the harsh way of the world-and maybe he’s right. I’m not stupid…no matter what my family thinks. I know the world sucks, I just prefer to see the good things in it is all. While everyone else sees pain and misery I like to see the good things…be the good things. He thinks I’m ignorant, like working at the pitbull rescue-he thinks they’re evil dogs and they should all be destroyed, I think they just need a little more love.’
‘I think he needs to be put down instead, how dare he! He should be protecting you! Worshipping you! Bastard doesn’t know how lucky he is! Of course you work at a dog rescue-‘
‘Oh, no. Volunteer, he thinks that’s stupid too, that I should get a job but I don’t want to work at a soul sucking job just for money. Again, that’s probably ignorant-‘
‘No! Fuck Him! Why are you with this creature?! You are worth so much more Y/n!’ Aemond insisted, hating this man so much more now that he knows how he treats Aemond’s little Bunny. ‘You do what makes you happy. I’ll have to come and see your work someday.’ Aemond smiled, seeing her happy.
‘Well there’s no time like the present! I’m about to go to work, why don’t you drop me off and come see the place?’
She was inviting him into her life, inviting him to more than just lunch, she wanted him to see something that made her happy, something that really mattered to her and he was honored. He sure as fuck wasn’t about to pass it up!
‘I would love to. Are you finished?’ He asked, quickly paying the bill despite her argument as he texted his driver.
Aemond led her out of the restaurant and opened her door, helping her into his car before climbing in behind her and watching her look around in awe. ‘This is a Rolls Royce…I know your family was well off but Jesus-‘
‘Oh no, this is mine. I have a few…lucrative companies and it’s left me fairly well off.’ The interior was black leather and the roof had little lights on it that looked like stars that he turned on, watching her eyes light up. ‘I knew you’d like it.’
‘Christ Aemond, this is amazing!’ She smiled excitedly and he watched as she inspected everything before sitting back and leaning her head against his shoulder. ‘I’ve missed you…I forgot what it was like to just be myself around someone without worrying about being judged.’
‘The more you tell me about your life the more I want to steal you away. You should not be marrying someone who does not make you happy. Let me make you happy, let me take care of you, keep your job with the animals and come home every day to a man who loves you for you and always has…I’m not going to give up.’ He warned her but she already knew that. He texted one of his most loyal men, Criston Cole, to look into the fiancée for him, tasking him to find the man and check him out.
‘We’re here.’ She mumbled, moving quickly from where Aemond held her against his side, so close to getting her to kiss him. ‘Brittany, this is my friend Aemond, he’s going to be helping me for a bit, he wants to see what we do here.’
‘Oh, alright. You are welcome here anytime…let me know if you need any help.’ She flirted though Aemond didn’t seem to notice as he kept his gaze on Y/n, following her into the back.
‘And you acted like you never got girls.’ Y/n teased as she pulled a leash around her shoulder.
‘I don’t.’
‘Brittany was clearly flirting with you, Aemond! She’s so into you!’ He just rolled his eyes, clearly not caring in the least.
‘My eye is on someone else…I’m working on that. Now, show me what you do.’
Aemond loved seeing Y/n in her element, she had always been an animal lover, ever since finding a raccoon hit by a car and nursing it back to health as kids Aemond knew she would be an animal person.
He stayed much longer than he intended, unable to leave when she was clearly having so much fun with him and if it meant he had to walk dogs all day he would do it just to see that smile.
‘I always save this guy for last. He’s the oldest boy we’ve got here and he’s my favorite-don’t tell the others.’ She whispered, walking into the cage and putting the leash around his neck. ‘This is Gunner, he’s not really adoptable because he’s not great with other dogs but I don’t believe that. Judging dogs on how they act in a shelter is like judging men on who they are in prison, it’s not a fair judgment of their personality. He’s a sweet boy…if it weren’t for Marcus I would have taken him home by now but he doesn’t like dogs-‘
‘Okay, I officially hate this man and I don’t know why you don’t…what about this one? We haven’t taken her out yet.’ He said, letting himself into the cage and letting the dog smell him before petting her, scratching behind her ears which she seemed to love.
‘Oh no! Aemond, she’s not…Wow…her name is Vhagar. I’ve never seen her like anyone before…ever. Not even me…I can’t believe she’s letting you do that right now…’ he could see Y/n was surprised and he was saddened by that because she seems like a very sweet dog. He took her from the cage, following Y/n outside with Gunner and seeing the dogs actually seemed to get along quite well. ‘Have you ever considered getting a dog? Seriously, I’ve never seen Vhagar act like this in all my years here. She’s been here since she was a few months old. She bit a man at her old place when he tried to touch her food-I didn’t think she ever had a chance for a home.’
Aemond considered it. He hadn’t thought about a dog before but he quite liked Vhagar and she seemed to enjoy him. ‘I’ll think about it…’
At the end of the day Aemond felt awful putting Vhagar back in her cage, a cage she doesn’t seem to get out of often, and her whining didn’t make it any easier.
They were on their way home when Aemond got the text from Criston, images of Marcus with a woman that definitely wasn’t Y/n.
‘Y/n…do um…do you know this woman? I had a friend look into Marcus and it seems this woman is at your house while you’re out almost every day that he’s not at work.’ Y/n looked at his phone and her eyes went wide in surprise.
‘That’s…that’s his coworker…she’s my friend…Aemond, if this is a joke I swear to God-‘
‘I wouldn’t do that to you Y/n…I want you, I’ve made that clear, but whether or not you want me I will not tolerate someone hurting you.’ Aemond watched her as she stared at the picture for several moments before handing it back and he texted Criston to take him to the basement. The mansion Aemond lived in being on 200 acres of land-mostly woods as even years ago he’d been looking for some place that Y/n would be happy in, and the place had a large basement that Aemond had installed a few cages in for moments like this. He wasn’t prepared for the tears that spilled down her cheeks and he pulled her to his side quickly, kissing her head.
‘I can’t believe he would do this to me…Fuck him!’
‘That’s right, fuck him! You’re going to come and stay with me for a while, I’ll help you get your things-‘
‘Aemond-‘
‘Don’t worry, you’re mine already Y/n but we will move at your pace. Right now I’m just here for you…me and the dogs.’ Her eyes widened and she looked up at him in surprise. ‘I like dogs, plus I have plenty of room and they like each other. Might as well, right? I can’t in good conscience leave Vhagar there and if she’s coming home then Gunner is too. Let’s go get them, hmm?’ Aemond held her tighter as she hugged him, kissing his cheek and making quick work of packing everything she needed from their apartment. An apartment that Aemond hated, it was a tiny, cramped studio, what kind of man let’s a woman he “loves” live somewhere like this? Especially when he has the income to live someplace much nicer-though now he knows the man is spending his money on the other woman.
‘We need to stop at the pet store on the way home, I’m assuming you don’t have dog food?’
‘No I do not.’ Aemond chuckled, pulling Y/n closer to his side once again, nuzzling into her hair and letting her hold onto him as they made their way back to the shelter. It didn’t take long to get there and Y/n walked right into the back, filling out paperwork on both dogs quickly, Aemond signing for Vhagar and getting a leash, walking back to the cages. ‘Hello sweetheart. Didn’t think I’d leave you here, did you?’ Her tail was wagging before he even got into the cage, like she knew what was happening and she probably did-Y/n believed that dogs could sense things that humans can’t and seeing Vhagar’s reaction, he believed she may be right.
‘Hey buddy! Are you ready to go home?!’ Y/n asked excitedly, Gunner wagging his tail so hard his whole butt was wagging with it as she put the leash over his head and he ran out, jumping onto her and licking her face as she knelt down. ‘I told you we’d go home someday, didn’t I?’
‘And you were right. You’re both going home.’ Aemond smirked, just happy he was getting her home and ruining her relationship all in one day, and so what if those pictures of Marcus and his coworker were fake? He’s still an asshole after everything she’s told him, he deserves to get dumped!
‘Okay, I need to get special dog food for Gunner, he’s older so he need a certain diet.’ They got small bags of dog food, Aemond deciding to have one of his men pick up bigger bags later.
‘Should we get them beds? Don’t dogs just sleep in your bed?’
‘Usually but we should get them both one in case and if they don’t use them we can put them in the living room for them…come here. What do you think?’ Y/n asked as she got a few beds down for Gunner to try and he lounged himself on an orthopedic sofa bed that Vhagar seemed to like as well and Aemond put 2 in the cart, along with a bunch of dog bowls. Y/n fit both dogs with a harness, collar and a leash for taking them on walks before taking them down the toy aisle. ‘Pitties always shred toys so be prepared to buy more later. We can get a few balls and a tire, what do you want buddy? Pick something nice.’ She told him and Aemond let Vhagar inspect the toys as well, watching her seem to be very picky before she settled on a red dragon toy that he let her carry, grabbing her a rope and a chewy hedgehog toy while Gunner got himself a large alligator.
He allowed Y/n to pick the dog treats as he knew nothing about them and she seemed particular about them. He memorized the packaging for when they needed to be replaced so he wouldn’t get the wrong ones.
‘Do they really need that?’ Aemond asked as Y/n sat Gunner down and pulled a plaid hoodie over his head before getting one a size up and putting it into the cart.
‘We live in Seattle Aemond, it’s cold and rainy, and you said you live in a wooded area. Pitties don’t have much fur, they will want a hoodie when they go out in the morning and at night especially! Last thing, then we can go home.’ It gave Aemond butterflies to hear her call his house “home” and he knew in that moment it didn’t matter how many outfits she wanted to put on the dogs, he would do anything for her to stay and be happy by his side. He helped her fit Vhagar with her own sweater before paying for everything and packing it all into the car.
Aemond went to check on Marcus as Y/n had her things brought to the guest room before changing into pajamas and getting everything set up for the dogs, setting their beds in the living room and their food and water bowls in the kitchen. She put their toys next to their beds and put their food and treats in the pantry, along with their leashes and sweaters by the front door.
Aemond changed into his own pajamas before coming downstairs to find Gunner snuggled against Y/n’s lap and Vhagar in her bed with her dragon toy. As he sat down she moved and hopped up beside him on the couch against his side. ‘I’m so glad I get to see Vhagar like this. I was so scared she would never find someone and she would be in there until she-‘ Y/n cut herself off, not wanting to think about it as they turned on a movie and cuddled up while their dinner was made along with plain chicken and rice to go into the dogs meals.
‘Come on, please? I promise I will be the perfect gentleman…unless you ask me otherwise.’ Aemond smirked, pulling Y/n into his room instead of the guest room and tossing her into the bed beside him. ‘How about we stay home tomorrow, we need to get to know each other again…and I want you all to myself.’ Aemond admitted, kissing her cheek as they settled down with a movie on and the dogs finding their comfy spot in the California King.
‘You’re not going to let this go, are you?’
‘Nope. I’ve loved you since we were 6 years old and that has never changed.’ He texted a few of his men to reschedule all of his meetings tomorrow, not caring how important they were-nothing being more important than his girl.
As he did that Y/n finally got a call back from her mother who had finally seen the picture of Aemond she had sent, answering the FaceTime with a sigh. ‘Hi mom.’
‘Don’t you “Hi, mom” me! What were you doing seeing him?! He is a bad person Y/n! Do you want to jeopardize your relationship with Marcus for him?! We spent everything moving you away from him, don’t you dare destroy that!’ She snapped, clearly upset at the idea that Aemond was back in her life.
‘Marcus and I broke up and I moved out. He was cheating on me with a coworker. Aemond is being a good friend to me right now, I don’t know what your issue with him is but we’re not kids anymore mom! If I want to be with Aemond then I can and you will have to put up with it.’ She stated, putting her foot down.
‘If you want to have a relationship with that boy then you won’t have one with us.’ Her mother demanded.
‘Actually I’m a man now Mrs. L/n. It’s been 10 years, I’m not a dumb 11 year old kid anymore and Y/n is living here with me now. We have 2 dogs and she’s pregnant with my baby, lovely to see you again, goodnight now!’ Aemond smiled, hitting the ‘End Call’ button and laughing just as Y/n did, unable to stop for several minutes.
‘I can’t believe you did that!’ She laughed, leaning on his shoulder after turning her phone off so her mother couldn’t contact her.
‘She deserved it. I’m not the same dumb kid I was and she refuses to give me a chance, that’s on her. I’m gonna take care of you Y/n…even if you don’t ever want to be my girl. I love you Y/n. Always.’ He swore, feeling her lips pressed to his a second later.
‘I love you too Aemond…I need to go slow…and if you cheat on me I’ll cut your balls off.’
‘I think that’s reasonable-I’ve waited 15 years for you Y/n, do you think I would jeopardize that for a useless fuck? Don’t you ever worry about that-you’ll be with me at club nights, you’ll be my date to every event, I won’t have time to cheat on you. I will make you happy Y/n, I promise.’ He swore, pulling her to cuddle into him and tucking her under the blankets. ‘I’ve got you Bunny. Don’t you ever doubt that.’
Aemond T. Masterlist
Fat Funny Friend - Jack Abbot
Pairing: Jack Abbot x Plus Sized Reader
warnings: assholes being assholes
a/n: listen I love a plus size confident queen but sometimes I need to indulge with a fic where she's a little self-conscious and feeling not her best self. So consider this that self indulgence. Inspired by the song Fat Funny Friend by Maddie Zahm. Day 15 of Rocktober.
p.s.: I wouldn't mind writing more of this duo if people like them.
You pushed open the heavy door of the bar, noise slamming into you as you stepped inside. It was busier than you thought it would be and you briefly considered leaving without finding Trinity. You could just tell her you fell asleep or something. It wouldn’t be the first time. You ran your hands down your thighs, palms suddenly clammy. The sight of a hand waving frantically from a corner table caught your attention.
Trinity stood and waved both arms. “Over here,” she shouted, obviously thinking your hesitation meant you hadn’t seen her. You huffed a breath and navigated through the crowd, dodging servers and wayward elbows as you went.
“You made it.” Trinity beamed, grabbing your wrist and dragging you the rest of the way to the table. “Everyone, this is my friend I was telling you about that’s going to revolutionize research methodologies or something equally brilliant. I can’t follow what she’s talking about most of the time.”
Four pairs of eyes turned to you and you felt the familiar panic in your gut. The moment when they were assessing you, the subtle shift in expression when people took in your size. You learned early on to head it off at the pass.
“Don’t listen to her,” you said and shrugged out of your jacket. “I spend my days shushing people and threatening the undergrads with the stapler when they misshelve their books.”
A ripple of laughter broke the ice, just as you’d intended. Trinity rolled her eyes but grinned.
“Let me introduce everyone,” she said, pointing around the table. “Yolanda Garcia, surgical resident.” The woman nodded in greeting and you understood why Trin had a crush on her.
“You know Dennis already.” Whitaker raised his beer in greeting. You’d been surprised when Trinity asked him to move in with her but you liked him well enough.
“That’s Robby,” she continued, gesturing to a tall man with a salt-and-pepper beard gathering his jacket. “Day shift attending abandoning us for his bed while the rest of us drink away our trauma.”
“Some of us have to work tomorrow,” Robby countered. He smiled at you. “It’s nice to meet you, Trinity thinks very highly of you.”
Your cheeks heated. You found it hard to believe she talked to anyone about you. You’ve never really understood why she stayed your friend but you were thankful to have her nonetheless.
Robby gestured to the man beside him. “This is Jack Abbot, night shift attending who somehow has the night off but was about to leave anyway because he hates fun.”
The man in question had clearly been on his way out with Robby but paused, his eyes meeting yours with unexpected intensity. He wore cargo pants and a simple t-shirt that seemed to somehow enhance his good looks.
“I don’t hate fun,” Abbot said, voice lower than you’d expected. “I just have a different definition of it than Robby does.”
“Drinking alone in the dark doesn’t count,” Robby ribbed.
“Says you.” He said his goodbyes to Robby then retook his seat rather than leaving.
When Dennis asked you about your graduate work, you deflected knowing he was only including you in the conversation to be polite. He always got a glazed look in his eyes when you started talking about your thesis project.
When Garcia asked a specific question about your research, you found yourself answering genuinely. “I’m developing a research database that cross references categories and obscure references. It’s dependent on information culled from the sources themselves rather than relying on AI which is notorious for making errors in medical research in particular.”
Jack settled back into his seat, his eyes fixed on you with an interest that seemed more than polite. You’d seen that look before. It was the one people get when they’re waiting for you to finish so they can speak. You braced yourself for the interruption.
“How does that work exactly, because more and more hospitals are depending on AI programs to give them information without ever looking at the data themselves?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.
The question surprised you as it seemed he was actually interested in what you had to say. You launched into the explanation, surprised to find yourself speaking without your usual self-deprecating statements. The conversation flowed with ease as you described your research methodology in detail. Jack asked questions that cut to the heart of the technical challenges you’d been wrestling with, offering perspectives from the clinical side that Trinity wasn’t experienced enough to think of.
Trinity and Dennis were discussing a case study while Garcia’s thumbs flew over her keyboard as she occasionally chipped her two cents into their conversation. Jack had shifted to face you more directly.
You suddenly realized just how long you’d been talking. He’d probably been silently begging you to shut up. “Sorry. I tend to get carried away with the library science stuff. Not exactly typical bar conversation.”
A small smile curled his lips. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t typically have bar conversations. But I’d like to hear more about your project.”
For once, you found yourself without a ready joke to deflect the attention. Instead, you took a sip of your drink and continued, aware of the unusual feeling of being genuinely seen rather than merely tolerated.
Jack watched as Trinity nudged your shoulder and gestured toward the bar. You rolled your eyes. “Duty calls,” you told him with a half-smile and got up to follow your friend.
Jack’s gaze followed you as you wove through the crowd, your shoulders tensing as you went. He noted how you tried to make yourself smaller, angling sideways between people instead of asking them to move. Anything to not be a bother. He could read it all over you. And he had trouble understanding it.
You had captured his attention from the moment Santos dragged you to the table. He had been intending to leave when Robby did but then he’d seen you. He typically avoided these outings, attending only when Robby badgered him long enough. Yet tonight, he’d stayed without prompting solely because of you. You weren’t dressed up, just wearing jeans and a floral top but he’d been instantly drawn in. And then you’d started talking and he was blown away. You were brilliant and he knew you didn’t see it.
“Another round?” Dennis asked.
“I’m good,” Jack answered, eyes never leaving you as you and Santos slid between a couple of groups at the bar.
The bartender acknowledged your friend immediately but you stayed a step behind her, scanning the bottles on the wall as you decided what you wanted. Jack took a sip of his beer, attention sharpening when two men approached Trinity. They both wore jeans with button-downs, sleeves rolled to the elbows. The taller one clapped her on the shoulder.
Jack was too far away to hear most of what was said, only catching the occasional word. Santos motioned to you and the men’s eyes flicked to you and back to her so quickly Jack might have missed it if he hadn’t been watching so closely. He didn’t miss how they positioned their bodies to include Trinity while leaving you on the periphery either.
Even from across the room, Jack could see the change in your posture. Your shoulders hunched, your smile grew brittle and your eyes darted around looking for a way out. You said something he couldn’t hear and Trinity’s friends laughed. Not with you. At you.
The taller one leaned over, saying something to you that made Trinity’s smile falter. Your face maintained its pleasant expression but Jack noticed the tightness around your eyes and the tremor in your hand as you reached for the bottle of beer the bartender slid across the counter.
Jack stood, stepping closer so he could hear what was being said and intervene if needed. He didn’t want to embarrass you and surely Santos would have your back. The second man gestured in your direction. “You’re brave, risking that denim holding all that.”
Santos laughed. Not fully but not stopping it either. She looked uncomfortable but said nothing when the taller one continued. “The fat funny friends are the best. They’re always so grateful for attention.”
Jack was moving forward before he could think better of it. You were already backing away making your excuses. The forced brightness in your tone made his jaw clenched. You turned quickly, head down and collided directly with his chest. Your beer splashed out of the bottle and across his chest.
“Oh my god,” you stammered. “I am so sorry. I didn’t see…I wasn’t looking.”
You sat your bottle on the nearest table and grabbed a napkin dabbing at the stain. Your hand trembled against his chest and Jack felt something twist inside of him. Not annoyance but a sharp jolt of anger at the men who had reduced the confident, passionate person from earlier into this flustered state.
“It’s just a shirt,” he said quietly, trying to catch your gaze but you refused to look up.
“I’m really sorry.” You voice was thick with humiliation. “I’ll pay for the cleaning or a new one or—”
“Hey,” he cut you off but you were already backing away, still not meeting his eyes.
“I need to go.”
Before he could respond, you pushed past him, threading through the crowd with determined speed. Jack watched the door shut behind you before turning his attention to Santos. The men had already wandered off and as much as he’d like to give them a piece of his mind the worst offender here was her in his opinion.
He stepped into her space. “You let them talk to her like that?”
Her eyes widened slightly before she shrugged. “They were just joking around. It wasn’t serious.”
“Wasn’t serious,” he repeated, voice dropping lower. Santos had worked with him enough she should sense the danger in that tone.
“Look it’s just how they are. They don’t mean anything by it.” She darted a glance in their direction.
“And that makes it okay? To humiliate someone? To make jokes about her weight?” Jack leaned closer. “To imply she should be grateful for their attention?”
Trinity flinched. “I didn’t say any of that.”
“But you laughed. You stood there and let it happen.” He shook his head. “She’s supposed to be your friend.”
Her shoulders sagged as she glanced toward the door where you disappeared. “I didn’t think…it’s always been easier to just go along with it. To be one of them instead of…” She gestured vaguely toward the door.
“Instead of a target.”
She nodded. “I’ve known them since undergrad. They can make my life hell if they want to.”
“So you let them make her life hell instead.”
Santos had no answer for that.
“You’re better than this, Santos. Or at least, you should be.” He stepped back. “Did she drive?”
She shook her head. “No, we were going to walk to her place after. It’s not far.”
“Which way?” he asked.
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“Which way would she go, Santos?”
“Oh.” She gestured and rattled off the address.
He nodded and turned to go after you, hoping you hadn’t gotten far. He didn’t like the thought of you walking home humiliated and upset. He noticed your jacket still on the back of your chair and snagged it on his way by.
The night air was a shock after the stuffy heat of the bar. His eyes scanned the street spotting you sitting on a bench in the small park across from the bar. You sat hunched forward, arms wrapped around yourself staring at the ground.
Jack crossed the street, approaching slowly to keep from startling you. Your head lifted at the sound of footsteps. You wiped the lingering moisture from your cheeks and gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.
“If you’ve come about the drycleaning bill, you’ll have to take a number. Student loans take most of my salary.”
Jack sat beside you on the bench, leaving some space to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable with his presence. He handed you the jacket. “Actually, I came to bring you this and to see if you were okay.”
You glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t need your pity or whatever this is.”
“It’s not pity.” His voice was firm, unyielding. “I genuinely enjoyed our conversation earlier. You’re interesting.”
You studied him for a long moment. “Why?”
He frowned in confusion. “Why what?”
“Why would you think anything about me was interesting?” The question was direct, stripped of your usual protective humor. “I know what I look like. I know what people think when they see me. I’m the comic relief, not the one people actually want to talk to.”
The honesty caught Jack off guard, feeling like a trust he hadn’t earned yet. “Then those people are idiots. You are the most interesting person I’ve met in a long time. Intelligence matters to me. Passion matters. When you talked about your research, I could see your mind working, connecting ideas in ways I could never think of. That’s rare. And valuable.”
You looked away, staring at your hands. “Most people don’t see that part.”
“Yeah, well as I already said people are idiots.” The corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “I spend twelve hours a day patching up the results of human stupidity. I’ve learned to recognize the exceptions when I meet them.”
A flicker of a smile crossed your face.
“I’d like to hear more about your research or anything else you’d like to talk about.”
The invitation hung in the air between you. You turned to look at him directly, searching his face for any sign of insincerity or mockery. Finding none, you made a decision. “Night shift, huh?”
“Yep.”
You stood and slipped into your jacket. “Always been a bit of a night owl myself. There’s an all-night diner not too far from here. I’ll buy you breakfast to make up for the shirt.”
As if he’d ever let you pay, especially after that crack about the student loans. Jack allowed himself a grin as he stood and offered you a hand. “It’s a date.”
Being a plus sized lady myself I love to read this..plus I love myself some Jack Abbot as well so bonus!!!! I would read more of these 2 if their is an option to!!!
thank you!! There will be more of them very soon.
The Devil's Favourite - Masterlist
A Titus Danforth x fem!reader fic
In all the years Titus had been alive, no woman had ever captured his attention like you did. Titus could not explain it, he just knew, from the second he first met you, he needed you like air. And he'd move heaven and hell if necessary to get you. Not his father, not yours, not the Lawyer, Mr Le Bail or his demons he had watching over you could ever stop him.
Ao3
Current total word count: 45,1k
No use of y/n!
Content: Older Man/Younger Woman (Titus is 50, Reader in her early twenties but it's only mentioned in passing), Blood and Gore, Brutal Murder, Torture, Possessive Behaviour, Stalking, Slightly Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, Obsessive Titus Danforth, Sexually Inexperienced Titus Danforth, Virgin!Reader, Agoraphobic Reader, Size Difference, Size Kink, Blood Kink, Dacryphilia
1. The Covington Girl
2. Collateral Damage
3. Temptation
4. Desire
5. Obsession
6. Cracks
7. The Deal
8.
Just a quick reminder that cnc means consensual non-consent
That means all parties have to be aware of what is happening and approve of it before hand with boundaries etc discussed. Knowing and/or even liking the person doesn't mean it's not rape.
The Dragons Unexpected Mates
Alpha!Daemon/Rhaenyra x Omega!Aemond/Twin
I made a post a while back about this idea and I’ve been writing it on and off for a few months-It’s Finally Finished!
Aemond and his twin sister present as Omegas-the first Targaryen Omegas in history-which leaves them in a very bad situation as they cannot find their Alphas.
When their family arrives from Dragon Stone to fight for Lucerys’ inheritance the twins are confronted with a reality that no one thought possible.
Daemon and Rhaenyra have been searching for their Omega for years only to find not one-but two Omegas’ in the form of Rhaenyra’s twin siblings and Daemon’s niece and nephew.
Will the Alpha couple be able to put their previous feelings aside and care for their Omegas or will this combustible relationship blow up in all their faces?
No one understood our relationship from the moment that we presented.
Never before had a Targaryen been an Omega, not a single one in all of history and suddenly not only was I an Omega but my twin brother Aemond was too? No one could make sense of it, nor could we make sense of how desperate we were for each other. Omegas had never mated before, only being mates in a handful of situations with an Alpha mated to both of them though try as our mother did, no one could find our Alpha.
Our grandfather ordered us kept apart, not willing to let either one of us be tainted as he thought he could marry us to Alphas in other houses, though our mother and father were adamant that that would never happen. Aemond and I (who had never spent a moment of our lives apart since we were conceived) were suddenly only allowed to be together during the day with guards watching over us. It hurt not being together, not having my brother hold me every night as we slept and even though our mother argued, Otto Hightower inevitably got his way.
It was 6 full months after we had presented that we finally found our Alpha, well...Alphas...
Aemond and I stood together, me clutching tightly to his arm as we waited for the hearing to start. Vaemond was arguing the succession of his brothers title once he dies (as everyone expects him to) and everyone had come from Dragonstone to fight for Luke.
It was eventful as our father had willed himself from his bed to sit the throne and fight for his favorite child before our Uncle cut Vaemond's head clean off for saying that Rhaenyra's sons are bastards and calling his mate a whore. It was at that moment as Aemond shielded Helaena's eyes from the sight that my eyes locked onto our Uncles and his eyes widened. I couldn't look away, his scent suddenly overwhelming me and I clutched my twins hand tightly, making him look down at me and follow my line of sight, Daemon baring his fangs as he looked to my brother and realized what was happening.
'Come.' Aemond insisted the second that Daemon turned his head towards his mate who was also an Alpha (an unconventional relationship that no one understood just like Aemond and I). I allowed him to pull me along and out of the Throne room quickly, before any guards could see us as they were too distracted by the murder that just took place.
'What's happening? This doesn't make any sense!' I insisted, my brother keeping me moving through the corridors, around everyone that had fled the Throne room when Daemon murdered a man.
'The Gods seem to like having a laugh at our expense. We're leaving, now!' I was stunned by that as he got to his bedroom and began throwing clothes into a bag.
'And going where Idaña?! Where can we go that no one will ever find us while you ride the largest beast in the world?' (Twin)
'Anywhere, West...West of Westeros until we find something, anything. I need to take care of you Byka Zaldrīzes! I cannot lose you, I will not!' (Little Dragon)
'Aemond, I'm afraid.' I admitted, seeing my brother scared for the first time and not being able to calm myself.
He stopped packing, turning to me and taking my face in his hands. 'Have I ever let anything happen to you?' I shook my head. 'Right, and I never will. I will protect you but we need to go now, before-'
'Before what, dear Nephew?' A deep voice questioned and we both spun around to see Daemon and Rhaenyra standing in the doorway. Aemond pulled me behind him and gripped the handle of his sword as if waiting for Daemon to attack us.
'Calm down brother, we will not harm you. You are ours now, we have been waiting a long time, why would we hurt our Omegas?' Rhaenyra’s voice was soft and calm, something about it relaxed my anxiety in a way I had never felt before.
'Why would you want us? You do not truly expect me to believe that you want to mate us? To bring us into your home with your sons who we hate and hate us all the same.'
'Nephew-'
'It is that or rejection and I will not let you kill my sister, now get out!' Aemond growled. He had barely gotten the sound out before his growl was cut off by a louder and far more bone chilling one leading to me wrapping my arms around Aemond's waist in fear. Aemond stood his ground, not backing down and keeping me behind him.
'You protect Y/n despite being scared yourself, you are a strong boy, Omega.' I could feel the pleased rumble through Aemond's body though he tried to hide it and I knew Daemon and Rhaenyra both called out to him as they did me.
'We are not planning on rejecting you, pups. You are ours now, whether you like it or not.' Our older sister spoke, taking a step towards us but while Aemond tried to step back, I didn't move, which made her smile from what I could see peeking from behind him.
'You will be ours as you are both meant to be, the children will behave or they will be punished. The same will go for you as well, there will be peace in our home because I will have my Omegas.' Daemon demanded.
'You expect us to believe that? Have they ever been punished a day in their lives? When-'
'All of you were wrong that night Aemond, and you know it!' Rhaenyra stated firmly.
'I care not about myself! I care about all the times they hurt my sister, all of the times Jace tripped her, shoved her down along with Aegon. Aegon was punished, was Jace?' I dug my nails into Aemond's side as he told them that, hating to remember back to all those years ago. I wasn't any less helpless physically now but I was far more likely to stand up for myself after years of Aegon and Jace's torment to my brother and I, and though Luke joined in too he was far too little to have done anything more than tease.
Rhaenyra looked shocked, moving from beside Daemon towards us, Aemond trying to keep himself between us but Daemon took hold of his tunic, not allowing him to move anymore. My elder sister brushed her fingers over my cheek, tilting my head up and leaving a tingling feeling where her skin touched mine. 'Is that true precious? Did my son harm you?' I hesitated but as her eyebrows raised I nodded my head, whining as she pulled me against her body. She felt warm and comforting in a way I hadn't felt before as she wrapped her arms around me and held me firmly, nose buried in my hair to take in my scent. I couldn't help but relax against her, the feeling being too nice to pull away from. 'I'm so sorry, I did not know. No one will ever harm you again pup.' She pulled away, holding my face in her hands and making me look up at her. 'Never.'
'No one will hurt either of you.' I turned my attention to Daemon who was leaning against the bed with his arm around Aemond's waist. 'You are our Omegas, and we are going to take care of you. No more doing it all yourself lēkianna, do you understand?' (Child of Older Brother)
'She is mine, you do not get to just take her away from-'
'No one is taking your idaña away from you, but you are not an Alpha, you cannot give her what she needs because you need the same thing Aemond. We will take care of you both, that is our job now.' Rhaenyra explained and I looked up at her. (Twin)
'You won't take Aemond away anymore?' I felt the tears welling up in my eyes at the idea that my twin wouldn't be kept from me anymore. After spending every minute of our lives together since conception, being pulled apart is agonizing.
'Anymore?' Daemon questioned, looking over at me making me whine, nuzzling back into Rhaenyra.
'Grandfather keeps us apart when someone can't watch us...he plans to marry us off to other houses and split us up.' The growl that suddenly exploded from Daemon at my brothers explanation was truly terrifying.
'He will not come anywhere near you again. Do you hear me, Omega? You are ours now, got it?' Aemond's head nodded quickly and I smiled, moving to hug my brother who lifted me to his chest tenderly.
'We will announce this at dinner. Daemon, let us go.' Rhaenyra said, a deep rumble leaving Daemon's chest before he tucked my hair away from my neck. 'We will give them a moment before the announcement, husband.' He seemed to relent as I heard their footsteps leaving the room. 'We will be back in 20 minutes to escort you down to dinner, get yourselves ready.'
'We will be waiting sister.' Aemond responded, arms tightening as the door closed behind them. 'Are you alright idaña?' He pulled back, sitting on the bed with me on his lap, nuzzling into my neck prompting a soft purr that had been building in my throat since Rhaenyra first touched me.
'They want us...we can be taken care of Aemond, no more worrying about Grandfather sending me off to a Lord to never see you again-'
'That was never going to happen.' Aemond's warm lips pressed down against mine and I hummed in pleasure, loving the feeling of him kissing me so sweetly. 'You are mine Idaña, nothing will change that, not even Alphas...your brother is gonna fuck you so good.'
'Don't stop?' I begged and Aemond smirked, turning me around to lean over me on the bed and kissing my lips again before they trailed down my jaw to my neck. Just as I felt his fangs lengthen and press against my flesh the door burst open and we both jumped up to see the 3 guards that usually keep watch of us and Otto.
'Gods be good, Aemond! How many times do I have to tell you-'
'She is mine! You cannot take her from me!' He growled, snarling at the elder man before 2 of the guards grabbed ahold of him and pulled him off of me, the third lifting me from the bed.
'She is not yours. You will both be married to an Alpha and if you cannot behave then you two will be separated permanently.'
'No! Let Go Of Me! We were born together! We are meant to live and die together! You cannot keep us apart-'
'Actually I can. I am your Grandsire and I am the Hand of the King, and because you cannot learn to listen, Y/n will be betrothed to one of Borros Baratheons sons on the morrow. I will ensure you will not ruin her and any chance we have of making an ally of them. The wedding will be as quick as possible and if you continue to fight I will ensure you are strapped down and forced to watch the bedding ceremony!' Otto threatened, knowing that all Omega marriages need a bedding ceremony to prove to the families that the mating was consummated.
'No! I won't do it! I won't enter the sept, I won't marry him-' Y/n tried to argue, being cut off almost instantly.
'Do you think you'll be the first women dragged into a sept to be married. You won't. Now, you two are going to behave at dinner with the family while we have guests, because if you don't, you won't be saying goodbye before she is sent away and I will ensure you never see each other again.' I bared my teeth just before Aemond gestured to me to calm down. 'Good. Now, we have a dinner to get through, behave and I will allow you to spend the evening together.'
We followed them all down to the dining room, seeing our whole family there and knowing we were still supposed to be waiting for Daemon and Rhaenyra. I was forced to sit down at the opposite end of the table than my brother, our mother clearly disliking it but not arguing as I pulled my knees to my chest, hiding my partially exposed body in the dress I was forced to wear (our grandfather determined to show me off since the day I presented). I nervously waited for our Alphas, only needing to wait for about 5 minutes before the door opened again and in they walked with their children, clearly very unhappy before seeing the both of us, separated. Aemond moved from where he stood talking to Aegon and Rhaenyra quickly took his hand, pulling him close and pressing her nose to his scent gland but as I tried to move I was shoved painfully back into my seat by a guard. As my Alphas saw this the entire room froze, the growl that Daemon released being a noise I had never quite heard before and it echoed with the sound of Caraxes roaring quite loudly and viciously from the beach when suddenly there was a blade sticking straight into the guards eye.
'No one touches my Omega. You remember that.' He told me as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest, nuzzling into my neck for the first time and breathing deeply against my scent gland.
'Told me he's gonna marry me to a Baratheon tomorrow Alpha, don't wanna go! Said he's never gonna let me see Aemond again.' Tears fell from my eyes and he pulled me back, wiping them away instantly.
'Your Grandsire is a Cunt! He is not in charge, no matter what he thinks, especially not of our Omegas. You just let your Alpha hold you, you're always safe in my arms, sweet little niece.' He lifted me into his arms and gestured for everyone to sit, Aemond taking the seat beside Daemon and Rhaenyra on the other side as I was sat in his lap. 'There we are precious, aren't you just the prettiest thing I've ever had in my lap.' I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as he said this, blushing a dark shade, unable to help it.
An angry growl came from our Grandsire and I flinched into Daemons body. 'What do you think you are doing?! Release her right now or-'
'Or what?' Rhaenyra asked, brows raised at Otto who looked stunned by the whole situation. 'They are meant to be together. Omegas or not, keeping twins apart is cruel, don't you think? However, they are also ours, everyone here knows we've been looking for our Omega for years...turns out we have been given a 2 for 1.' She joked, pulling Aemond close who bent down to rest his head into her neck.
'This is not possible-'
'Clearly it is, because they're ours and they have accepted such.' Everyone seemed shocked by this turn of events, both our mother and Aegon drinking their goblet of wine quickly while Helaena smiled at us with a knowing look. It was Jace and Luke who had any kind of physical reaction, clearly not being able to stop the loud snort and chuckles before Daemon suddenly reached over and smacked Jace over the back of the head so hard I thought he would be cross eyed for the rest of his life.
'That is enough from you. You boys do not get a say or a reaction. You will treat our Omegas accordingly as they will you, there will be no fighting, do you understand?'
'But they-'
'They will behave themselves as they have been told, they are good Omegas, aren't you?' Rhaenyra questioned softly, running her fingers through Aemond's hair and he rumbled out a purr in response, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
'But Mother, he-'
'No buts! They will behave as is expected of them and you will treat our Omegas with respect as is expected of you! Do I make myself clear?' Alpha asked the boys who looked angry but also didn't want to question or God forbid, challenge Daemon.
'Yes sir.'
The rest of the meal was spent with Daemon feeding me happily, nuzzling into my neck and playfully dragging his fangs over my scent gland which caused slick to begin forming between my legs, which my Alpha could clearly smell this close as he rumbled out a pleased noise. As the meal ended our Alphas were requested to stay in the hall to speak with the Hand and the Queen, clearly making them unhappy.
'You two will go straight to our chambers.' Daemon spoke.
'No, they will not-' Otto was instantly cut off before he could even begin to argue, let alone threaten us.
'Straight there, if you make a detour I will know and you will be punished, and any guard stupid enough to put hands on our Omegas will find themselves without hands at all very soon.'
I held onto Aemond's arm tightly and he squeezed my hand comfortingly. 'Go on now pups, we will join you shortly.' Rhaenyra said, turning back to the table and Aemond quickly guided me from the dining hall and briskly walked towards the Alpha couples chambers.
'What happens if they take us away-'
'No one is taking us anywhere, Byka Zaldrīzes. We are safe here.' He explained, walking into the room and closing the door behind us. 'I've got you.' Aemond pulled me close, pressing his lips to mine gently and I wrapped my arms around his neck. 'Precious Omega. My good girl, aren't you? I think-'
Aemond was cut off by the door opening again and we were overcome by the heavy scent of another Alpha and Beta, seeing Jace and Luke step into the rooms.
'What do you think you're doing in here?' Idaña snarled but Jace just sneered at him.
'You are not going to ruin our lives, I don't accept this bullshit mating! You tricked my parents somehow!'
'Tricked? How do Omegas trick Alphas into mating them? They're the ones that know, instinctually and we-‘
'Shut Up Slut!' He snapped, Aemond growling viciously when he took a threatening step forward but I held my brother back.
'If you leave now we won't tell them about this, just go, we'll all avoid each other as much as we can. We don't have to love each other, we'll just stay out of each others way.' I pleaded, trying to keep this from getting worse.
'Maybe she's right Jace? We'll all stay out of each others way, mother and father can be happy, let's just-'
'No Luke! I'm fixing this now! Daemon won't mate you if you're already ruined, all I have to do is mark you myself and reject you. You'll be dead before they even get back.' The smile on Jace's face was unsettling and I took hold of my brothers tunic as he pushed me behind him, baring his fangs at our nephew.
Aemond's gaze was locked on Jace as he stepped closer, backing up with me cautiously as I saw Luke step back out of the room, clearly not wanting to be involved in this. 'If you put one hand on her I will skin you alive-'
'Oh don't worry Uncle, you're going first. I could handle her being my Omega parent, but having you in my home every day of my life? Getting closer to Daemon and my mother, thinking that you have the right to tell me what to do-'
'We have no interest in that you stupid fuck! Do you really think we want to be around you every day of our lives?! We'll stay out of each others way, starting now. Get Out.' Aemond warned, snarling at the boy again before Jace lunged, taking my brother to the ground and fighting to pin his head to the side.
Aemond would normally kick Jace's ass but now, right after meeting his Alphas while both of us are on the verge of going into heat in the next few hours, he was significantly weaker.
'Get Off Of Him!' I growled, jumping onto Jace's back and wrapping my arms around his neck, squeezing as hard as I could.
'You Little Bitch!' His hand reached up and grabbed my hair just as there was an angry growl so loud it shook the room, all of us freezing and turning to see Daemon storming towards us. Jace jumped up, bowing his head and backing away from Daemon as the elder Alpha moved to us, Rhaenyra and Luke behind him.
'What did you think you were doing?' He questioned me as I had been on top of Jace.
'He was gonna bite Idaña! I was helping my brother Alpha...'
'Said he was gonna ruin us so you wouldn't want us anymore.' Aemond spoke up, getting the spotlight off of me though I nodded anyway, snuggling into my brother who pulled me as close as possible.
'Jace?' His mother questioned.
'I don't want them as our Omega parents!' He argued making us snarl.
'Told you we didn't want that!' I snapped, Alpha turning and giving me a warning look. 'You can be as upset as you want that I'm "being rude to your son" but he just tried to murder my brother in the worst way possible for an Omega to die! Please forgive me if I'm not feeling very fucking forgiving right now!' I raged, my body feeling like it was overheating as I began to sweat, Aemond now on his feet and pulling me away from everyone by my waist and sitting me into his lap on the bed and stroking my hair.
'Relax Omega, you're getting too worked up. I'm okay, Alphas came-'
'But if they hadn't he was going to mark and reject you! That's not some insignificant threat! I would have had to hold you while you died in agony, Why Is No One Upset?!'
'Relax Omega, we're going to take care of it sweet girl.' Rhaenyra promised. It was at that moment that I was hit with a horrible cramp in my stomach, suddenly feeling slick beginning to leak from between my legs.
'Oh Idaña, it's alright.' Aemond promised, smelling me with how close he was, our Alphas not yet scenting my heat as Daemon held Jace by the back of his neck tightly, growling in his face making the boy look like a small pup being scolded by his parents. They dragged him from the room with Luke not moving to follow as he seemed scared of his angry step father, turning his head to look at us as his nostrils flared, smelling my heat and I watched as his eyes widened and he moved to the end of the bed, watching as Aemond helped me. 'Here, let's get this dress off of you before you get even hotter.' Aemond unlaced my dress and moved me to lay back on the pillows. He pulled the dress down and dropped it off of the bed before kissing my lips softly. 'I'm going to take care of you, at least keep your heat at bay until they come back.' He promised, kissing down my body before spreading my legs and hooking them over his shoulders, his tongue licking up my slit softly, causing my loud whimper. My eyes flickered back and forth between my brother who was enthusiastically eating me out as he had always spoken about wanting to, and Luke who was watching on in fascination as I writhed around desperately. 'So fucking sweet Idaña! God damn perfect!' He growled, shoving his tongue into my hole as far as he could.
'Always wondered what an Omega in heat smelled like...everyone always says it's the best smell in the world...you are beautiful Rhaella.' He stated sweetly and I smiled before Aemond went back to eating me out making me gasp loudly.
'Oh Gods Aemond! Don't Stop! I-I'm-I...Fuck!' I cried out, my brothers tongue shoving back into my hole as I came though he continued his actions as he drank down everything I had to give him in that moment.
The door opened again as he continued, sucking on my clit now. 'Luke, it's time for you to go to your chambers...son?' Rhaenyra spoke, trying to gain his attention but she realized as she walked to the bed why she couldn't. 'Oh Gods be good! Daemon!' She yelled, turning to her son. 'You've seen enough of this now, let's go!' She snapped, taking his shoulders and leading him out just as Daemon came into the room.
'What is-Oh Fuck!' He growled as he scented me upon entering.
'Go to bed, Now Lucerys!' His mother insisted and he looked back at us once before doing as he was told, the door closing behind him.
'Aemond! That's enough, move!' Daemons demanded and he quickly jumped to move to my side that Rhaenyra was occupying now. 'You smell perfect Babygirl. Alphas are here now, we're gonna make it all better.'
‘Alpha-Please?’ I whined, watching Daemon yank his belt open and drag his pants down quickly, exposing his thick cock that he pressed against my hole and pushed into me.
‘Fuck! Waited so long for you Omegas-so fucking worth it! Fuck-you’re so tight!’ He cursed and he began a steady pace as he rutted into me.
‘Stay still sweet boy, stop squirming.’ I heard Rhaenyra giggle and turned my head to see Aemond on his hands and knees with our Alpha fucking into him as he whines for more, Aemond’s hand reaching out and grabbing mine, lacing our fingers together.
‘Fuck Y/n! Ah! Cum for me Omega! Cum on my cock and Alpha will fill your pretty belly with my pups! Don’t you want that? Do you want pretty Targaryen pups in your womb?’
‘Yes! Yes Alpha! Please give me pups?! Please?!’ I begged, clutching Aemond’s hand tighter as he did mine.
‘That’s right Omega! Gonna rut you both full of our babies! Gonna be knocked up together, like good little Omegas should be! Fuck! Oh Fuck!’ Daemon shouted, shoving me over the edge just as he finished, his knot expanding and holding all of his cum inside of my belly. ‘Shh…sweet Omega. Rest. You’re going to need it.’ Daemon smirked, kissing my neck as Aemond held my hand tighter, drifting off to sleep with Rhaenyra curled around him tightly and that’s how I fell asleep with Daemon nuzzling into my neck, knowing we were in for a long heat with 2 Alphas in our bed.
Aemond T. Masterlist
New fic Idea…?
So I was thinking about a fic last night after a few too many drinks🤣
Aemond and his twin sister present as Omegas, something that has never before happened in Targaryen history to even one of the blood of the Dragon, let alone twins.
They are even more desperate for each other than ever before as Otto tries desperately to hide the fact of them being “weak, needy Omegas” until he can marry them off individually, which his daughter argues as strongly as she can.
He keeps them apart, only letting them close when they can be watched by guards. As everyone comes to Kings Landing to fight for the inheritance of Lord of the Tides, Aemond and Y/n come face to face with their Alpha…Alphas
Daemon and Rhaenyra defied all odds by getting married and mating despite both being Alphas though they always knew they were waiting for an Omega to call theirs. They never expected to find two Omegas, and in the last place they would have thought to look…
Does this sound good or is it too crazy?😂🤣
So I did the thing…I wrote it. It will be posted later tonight if anyone is interested.





