Well, it seems pretty obvious which choice won (Patreon)

“Oh, Emma,” Scott chuckled, his voice rich with irony. “Surely you don’t think little Tessa here can compare with you. The White Queen.”

Emma froze, brows knitted in confusion. “Whatever do you mean, my love?”

“I mean why would I want Tessa when I can have you? Fuck you? Come inside you? Make you pregnant?”

Emma shook her head, laughing nervously, for once flustered. “But Scott… I told you… my figure…”

“It’ll make those tits of yours even bigger,” Scott said, reaching out to haul her to her feet. “I thought you’d go in for that.”

“But I told you to fuck her,” Emma insisted, looking a little desperately at Tessa. 

“I’m leader of the X-Men, ‘my love’. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Just like that, Scott was pulling Emma through their suite, her tiny efforts to resist utterly futile. Helpless, she was dragged into the bathroom with him. He threw open the medicine cabinet. Its swinging mirrored door showed Tessa, still kneeling on the bed.

“Your birth control,” Scott said. “Throw it out. You won’t need it anymore.”

Ironically for the ice queen, Emma was all fired up on the outside, but warm as a summer day on the inside. Scott could see it in her eyes—a delighted gleam that he could discern no matter how hard she tried to keep up her act of smug superiority. As he’d surmised and, indeed, hoped, Emma wanted him to choose her, wanted him to make her his mate in the most certain terms imaginable, and most of all, she wanted him to do it this way, her way, not with candles and flowers, but rough, hard, fast. 

Diamonds couldn’t be broken, it was said. Scott would put that to the test. 

“Make me,” Emma challenged.

Scott grabbed her by the throat, all while Tessa watched, her computerized eyes recording every detail. Scott wondered if that exhibitionism—a combination of voyeurism and sex tape—was the real point of Emma inviting Tessa here. He didn’t care much either way. As long as he was onboard with Emma’s plan, he’d have to get comfortable with other women in the bedroom sooner or later. 

He squeezed Emma hard, not enough to truly hurt her, but letting her know in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t kidding around. This game was being played to win. “If you're too scared to be fucked yourself, then safe word already.”

Despite the game, despite the pain, Emma grinned. This was more than what she wanted, it was what she needed. To open herself up and be truly vulnerable, she needed the freedom only a mask offered. It was no wonder she had become a superhero. It was the only way her fetish could get any kinkier. “If you want to play rough, I can play rough.” And that was the last acknowledgment she gave that this was anything but him taking what he wanted from her. 

I love you, she teeped into his head.

Scott smiled back at you. Love you too, he replied in kind. Then dug his thumb into her jugular vein. My little whore.