#beautiful rich and expensive husband

[sincericida]

ANDREW GARFIELD

at the Fashion Awards 2023 at the Royal Albert Hall in London, England.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。YEARS LATER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy au!)

contents. you and your rich husband, sitting and eating sushi years later on your wedding day. the end of one chapter, but the start of a new one. enjoy your happy rich boy gojo ending. with love, tee bee <3

satoru’s eyes are pretty when the sun sets, almost green instead of that usual icy blue—you can’t help but stare. it’s shamelessly, even. you watch as he brings the sushi to his lips, pausing just before he can take the bite as he notices your eyes on him.

“if you’re so busy staring at me, you might not notice it when your food is gone,” he hums, grinning cheekily at you.

you snort, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “oh yeah? then i’ll just make you buy me more.”

“first day and you’re already admitting to marrying me for my wallet?”

you laugh—it’s a free, bright sound that he has memorized from plenty of experience. and it’s his turn to stare as the sun settles in the crinkles by your eyes, years and years of laughter and smiles evident in the lines of your skin. beautiful, he think, you’ve always been so, so painfully beautiful.

your wedding dress is expensive. a pretty, flattering little thing. you buy it yourself, despite his protests. some years ago, you’d have stared wistfully at the price tag and considered the purchase in another life. you’ve come a long way since then—satoru is proud. so proud, he feels an ache building in his chest from the way things have changed as time crept past the two of you.

not a bad ache, perhaps. a dull throb of nostalgia that settles under his heart, in that spot he has saved just for you.

“i don’t need your wallet, you idiot,” you grin, reaching over with your chopsticks to steal from his roll. he lets you, just like he always used to when you were younger.

satoru thinks now, if he could, he’d love to pat his younger self on the back. the version of himself that used to watch you walk out of class without sparing him a glance, the version of himself that ached so badly for a chance with you, he’d collect stars from the sky to trade for an ounce of your love. he’d tell his younger self that he made it—that he’s sitting here, years later with his grandmother’s ring on your hand, eating sushi go after your wedding.

for old times sake, you’d told him when you asked to stop by, we always celebrated with sushi go when we were younger, remember?

as if he’d forget, he wanted to laugh. but he drives over anyway, parking the car in the same old spot as he used to. this time, there’s newly wed! written on the back of the window—and the words miraculously enough crossed out underneath. (he thinks that’s courtesy of shoko, but she doesn’t fess up, and suguru insists it doesn’t matter. soon enough, he’ll get to the bottom of it.)

“are you sure?” he hums, “you’ll have a lot of fun with it, i promise.”

“i think i’d rather have fun with you,” you hum, giving him a small wink as you take a sip from your soda, making his lips curl into a wide grin.

“oh, isn’t that sweet,” he drawls, “i’m a lucky guy.”

“maybe if you’re on your best behavior, you’ll get extra lucky later tonight.”

“yeah?” he chuckles, folding his hands as he sits up straighter and nods seriously, “i’m a good boy.”

“you’re anything but that, toru,” you snort. and then you soften, staring at him as you reach over and grab his hand. he lets you, lacing his fingers with yours as your thumb brushes over his knuckles.

years and years worth of love resides in between your skin. the first time your hands touched him, you didn’t want him the way he needed you to. then one day, they touched him hesitantly, carefully, slowly exploring him with cautious gentleness. eventually they touched him like he was the world pressed in your palms, heavy with the weight of being your everything.

he likes being yours. more than he likes you being his—he’s always had more than enough. but there’s something about giving himself that feels better than taking, better than wanting, better than having.

satoru has always loved you. he thinks the first day you glared at him, he was doomed from the start. he thinks right now, as you stare at him with fondness, he’s even more doomed now.

he doesn’t mind it, not even a little.

“hey,” he murmurs, making you raise a brow for him to continue, “i’m your husband now.”

“i know,” you nod in amusement, “we just got married…like two hours ago. i didn’t forget that quickly.”

“good,” he wipes his forehead in faux relief, “i was getting worried for a second.”

“you’re too much,” you roll your eyes, squeezing his hand delicately.

“now that we’re officially married,” he starts, grinning cheekily as he bats his lashes, “we should list all the things we love about each other. in alphabetic order. you go first, of course.”

“i don’t have to alphabetize it.”

“why? you numbered it or something? is it organized by importance? i’ll accept that too, i suppose.”

“well, there’s only one thing,” you tease.

he huffs, grumbling a petulant, “so mean. all these years and you can only think of one thing? can’t you be a little nice to me in our wedding day?”

“i’ve worked smarter, not harder,” you shrug, “i’ve condensed all my reasons down to one thing.”

“and what would that be?” he pouts.

“everything.”

“that’s cheesy,” he snorts, but there’s a flush on his cheeks that makes you grin, snickering as you lean over and poke at his cheek.

“you’ll just have to deal with it. you’re my husband, after all.”

“did you ever think about it? when we were kids?” he asks softly, staring off at a young couple in the distance with a tiny grin. the boy pulls out the chair for the girl, pushing her in and tripping slightly on his way to his own seat. satoru chuckles softly at the sight.

“think about what?”

“us,” he mumbles, “getting married some day. before we got serious, at least.”

“i don’t know,” you admit, “i didn’t even think i’d date you, to be fair.”

“you hated me,” he pretends to sniffle, “you wanted me dead. you wanted me to blow up into smithereens and leave my poor mother a grieving mess, didn’t you?”

“maybe not then, but i might now,” you sigh tiredly.

“well, i knew i was going to marry you since the first time you insulted me,” he nods proudly, earning a loud chuckle from you.

“you were a little freak back in the day,” you laugh, “i believe it. only you’d be romanced by degradation.”

“baby,” he huffs, glaring at you (his eyes are soft, playful, even. so sweetly affectionate, your teeth could rot), “you should appreciate a man seeing the best at you. even when you put him through the ringer.”

he almost regrets saying it when your hand pulls away from his, but then one by one, your palms reach over to cradle his cheeks, brushing a thumb along his soft, familiar skin as you stare at him like he’s the only thing that matters.

he is, you make him believe. he’s the only thing that matters. the center of your universe. he fought tooth and nail to get there, of course, but he has no intentions of leaving.

ever.

“i will always appreciate you,” you say softly, eyes watering as you swallow thickly, chuckling when a small tear slips from your eyes. “thank you for loving me, satoru. even when it was hard. even when you had to fight to do it. no one has loved me like that.”

“aw don’t start with the waterworks now,” he mutters, looking away and blinking suspiciously enough that you suspect his own eyes are just as teary, “we can’t have you crying for me already—that’s for later.”

“never any decorum with you,” you huff out a breathless laugh.

his thumb reaches over to swipe at your tear, pinching your cheek affectionately as he grins. it’s toothy, boyish, hopelessly and completely in love. even back then, and even right now. he’s always so in love. it’s you—always, from the day you first rejected him to the day you said yes when he got in one knee, it’s been you.

“thanks for loving me too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his own voice choking a bit as he swallows, “it can’t be easy. i’m a handful.”

“at least you’re self aware,” you snicker.

satoru beams—and he’s yours. your rich, spoiled, beautiful boy. all yours to love for the rest of your rich, spoiled, beautiful days.

i cried writing this. what a man he is truly

[zeldasnotes]

VENUS IN THE HOUSES

Things your placement makes me think of.🪽

𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔏𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣

VENUS IN THE 1ST HOUSE: Life path 1, dimples, snobby, too interested in others opinion on them, fitting into societys expections, special treatment, face of the city, girl next door, brand name clothes, kindness, helpful, inability to say no, two faced, dimples, hourglass shaped body, stylist, insecure about appearance, smiley, graceful , slow and elegant body movements, cupidbow lips, pouty mouth, blessed, materialistic, a certain softness to the appearance and body, long eyelashes.

VENUS IN THE 2ND HOUSE: Using their voice to manipulate, sensual voice, refined, magic touch, morally correct, strong need to be surrounded by comfort, comforting clothes, sensitive to materials, stubborn, hard time letting go of people, identifying with what they own, identifying with their moral values and opinions, attracting rich as successful partners, chefs, 5 star restaurants, sugar addiction, self care content, hoarders, tree hut scrub collection.

VENUS IN THE 3RD HOUSE: Compliments, nicknames, popular cousins, hanging out with siblings and cousins, having a popular and well known sibling, good reputation, well liked in their neighbourhood, avoiding arguments, passive aggressive, always one the phone, gossip, using complicated words to sound intelligent, socialite, popular, they know everybody, polite, creative, soft spoken, flirty, someone who loves to mingle, the teacher who ends the critique with a compliment, overuse of emojis.

VENUS IN THE 4TH HOUSE: Real Estate agents, interior designers, expensive furniture, having a goodlooking mother, a kind and loving mother, strong love for their home country, patriots, prefering food from the homecountry, posting house tours, beautifully decorated home, buying the latest and most expensive electronics for their home, cozy, fireplace, a family who cares about public image, spoiled, mommys or daddys little girl/boy, having the best looking lawn in the neighbourhood.

VENUS IN THE 5TH HOUSE: Confident, their kids being considered good looking by societys standards, their children are usually venusians, a house full of daughters, artistic, stylist, sequin dresses, flashy style and personality, attracted to confident people, loving to show off their back, backless dress, backdimples, entertainer, started dating early in life, generous, loving children, pre school teachers, noticing people for their hair & confidence level, when they commit they commit, worshipping their partner and wanting to be worshipped.

VENUS IN THE 6TH HOUSE: Clean girl aesthetic, workout clothes, lululemon collection, gym, receptionist, looking good in an uniform, getting hit on at work, 10 step skincare routine, cleantok, the pink stuff collection, serving nature, needing to feel productive, nurse, connecting their self worth to how productive they are, hard worker, attractive go workers, givers, self sacrificing, getting hired because of how they look, getting jobs easily, organisation, providers, working with art, working with beauty, working with laser hair removal, skincare therapist.

VENUS IN THE 7TH HOUSE: Sought after, wifey/husband material, dating popular people, always in a relationship, wanting a gorgeous partner, wanting to show you can get the baddest b*tch in town, pick me, attracting venusians, hard time saying no, bragging about their partner, bending over backwards to keep the peace, matching outfits with the partner, basing self worth on how liked they are, the girl next door, desired, the one everyone wants, getting married early.

VENUS IN THE 8TH HOUSE: Golddigger, trophy wife, gold jewelry, special treatment, users, all black outfits, pretty privilege, getting into locked rooms because of their looks, vengeful, inability to let go, attracting powerful people, attracting stalkers, people having strong reactions to their looks, loving the taboo, morbid taste, sensual, obsessed with beauty, expensive taste, having haters because of their looks, people wanting to look like them, triangle drama, surrounded by bitchy women, attracted to the wicked and disturbing, a dark look, beautiful genitals, dark makeup, smokey eye, goth.

VENUS IN THE 9TH HOUSE: Traveling as a love language, history lovers, someone who loves to read, well informed, strong opinions about religion, spiritual people , ”everything happens for a reason-mindset” hot teacher look, looking good in leather and boots, if they work as a teacher will be every kids favorite teacher, well liked by teachers, prefering people from a different culture than their own, teachers pet, hot legs, someone who peaked in high school, long distance relationships, understanding difficult topics, optimistic, openminded, wise as an owl, bookworm.

VENUS IN THE 10TH HOUSE: IT-girl, business owner, beauty clinics, braces, perfect bone structure, lashgirl in town, authority, face of the company, being favored by the public, being hired because of how they look, face of the city, people taking their side, attracting partners who want them to boost their image, arm candy, everyone in the neighbourhoods first crush, no idea to even try to ruin their reputation, everyone loves them, their mistakes sweeped under the rug, a reputation for being beautiful and well behaved, judgmental of people with a bad reputation, wanting to know everyone, natural beauty, well connected, authority, a body language that screams ”respect me”.

VENUS IN THE 11TH HOUSE: Big name, socialite, surrounded by big names, cloutchaser, influencer, the right connections, insta famous, they get to know others easily, gang members, gang leaders, drug cartels, the regina george of the group, huge social circle, the leader of the group or the baby of the group, open minded, progressive, attracted to someone who stands out, attracted to the outcast, quirky girl/guy, from friends to lovers, friends with exes, female friends, friends with the right people, overnight success, going viral, linkedin, popularity, meeting partners on the internet, dating apps, relationship drama on social media.

VENUS IN THE 12TH HOUSE: Psychic, wolf in sheeps clothing, looking more innocent than they actually are, morphing into what their partner want them to be, taking care of the poisonous snake and getting shocked when it bite, being an artist, shy, introvert, falling for emotionally unavailable people, feeling lonely, numbing the pain, extreme naivite, bambi, falling head over heels, trying to heal people, feeling bad for the one everyone hates, others fantasizing about them, others projecting their ideal onto them, glamorous, being talked into anything because people can sense they want to please, romantic, shirts with heartprint, confused look.

© 2023 Zeldas Notes

[rkvriki]

PAIRING ! ceo!jay x trophy wife!reader

SYNOPSIS ! A lavish lifestyle, the perfect rich husband, a full walk-in closet, expensive jewlery, expensive car, luxurious vacations... You had it all. Or at least everyone thought so. There was one thing missing for you and only your husband could give it to you. Was he gonna give it to you that easily?

WARNINGS ! SMUT! afab reader; jay praises reader; kind of dumbification of reader?? but not really; jay is a tease and kind of edges her; oral (f receiving); p in v; porn with unnecessary plot; handjob, reader calls herself a slut jokingly in the very end; jay smacks her ass once; this will be awkward get ready ! lmk if im missing any warning

word count: 4.3k

When you married Jay you knew what you were getting yourself into. Even when you guys were only dating, the tabloids’ front pages were already filled with pictures of you two in any situation they could catch you in. It was expected, of course. Who would ignore the fact that the daughter of one of the biggest CEOs of the country is now married to the young rich CEO who took over his father’s positions in one of the biggest companies out there? Everyone who looked close enough could tell you were both head over heels for one another, but that wasn’t enough to stop people from calling your marriage a mere deal or arrangement. Those headlines made you gag when you looked at them.

You couldn’t care less about them but something about people actually believing that made you get a sour feeling in your stomach. You were used to being a hot topic in magazines and whatnot. People always found a chance to make you a target of criticism, maybe out of envy, you wouldn’t know and never tried to do so. Ever since you were young you were taught the art of not giving a fuck mostly by your mother who knew you would deal with this kind of thing in your adult life.

Now ever since you got married people thought you were living the perfect life. I mean, you had everything you wanted in the palm of your hand, who wouldn’t want that? You spent almost all of your days at home, never needing to raise a single finger since you had a housemaid to do everything for you. But was it all that good? No one can imagine how boring that can get. It got to the point where you have asked, no, begged the maid to help her out just for the sake of doing something. And poor woman told you to do something simple because you don’t even know how to work with the laundry machine since you were never requested to do any house chores.

You gave up on trying to do anything, accepting that there would be days when you really had nothing to do. Unfortunately for you, today was one of those days. Or kind of one of those days. There was one thing you knew that could satisfy your craving for the day but said thing was not home at the moment. So you got up and went inside your closet looking for one specific thing. Browsing through one of your multiple drawers you finally felt the fine rich lace. Pulling it out, you stared at the beautiful two pieces of black lace lingerie that Jay had bought but you’ve never worn before. You quickly got ready, being extra careful with your appearance, and made your way out of the house, driving straight to your husband’s company building. 

The sound of your heels clacking was the only thing heard in the big building’s hallway alongside the whispers of, mostly, female workers around you. The quiet voices were something you learned to ignore over time. Not that they were worth being heard anyway, being nothing more than jealous comments coming from women who envied you just for the simple fact you dated their hot boss. You were very much used to hearing Jay’s employees call you trophy wife, which wasn’t exactly a lie if you were being honest.

You were a stay-at-home wife, who spent her time relaxing at home or shopping, so cliché right? It’s just the lifestyle that was given to you by your husband. You had a college degree but Jay insisted that you didn’t need to work since he had more than enough to provide you with a comfortable lifestyle and who were you to deny him that? Everyone told you you were being ungrateful for wasting your precious superior education years but you knew damn well if they were given the same opportunity they would take it.

You’ve always been privileged since you were little, being born into a family of old money who had always been involved with multiple big companies, which brought you to meet Jay. You were invited to a party that one of your father’s associates hosted and everyone who owned big businesses like his’ was there. Later that night, at the after party when your parents were already home, you met Jay. You would love to say you weren’t expecting it, but you spent the whole evening eyeing him, trying to get his attention, because no, just having a pair of perky tits and round ass wasn’t enough to get a man like Jay. You knew the moment you saw him silently reject other women that you would need to work hard for his attention, and it worked out just fine for you. Needless to say, the night went to your accord and somehow it ended up with you two getting married two years later.

You looked in the direction of the people whispering, seeing the two workers who were always running their mouths about you when you were present in the building. You simply looked at them with nothing but disgust in your eyes and kept making your way to the big tinted door. You don’t even bother to knock as you make your way inside Jay’s office. He looks up from his computer, making eye contact with you, seeing you smiling and all pretty for him. “Didn’t expect you to come here, baby.” Jays said as he smiled at you, motioning for you to come closer. You walked up to his side, towering over him as you gave him a tight hug. “I missed you and there was nothing to do so I came to see you.” You told him with a pout, making Jay laugh at your behaviour.

“It’s not funny, Jay! You’ve been so busy lately, we barely spend any time together.” You said with a huff, crossing your arms while avoiding looking at him. “Baby, I already told you that we’ve been dealing with this very important client and I can’t just drop this.” He said with a sigh. “I understand you feel upset and I’m not trying to discard your feelings but I also need you to understand that this is a big thing for the company, yeah?” You held back a sigh, trying not to sound too upset. “I know that, but you barely pay any attention to me when you’re home.” 

Many were the nights where you waited patiently for Jay to arrive in bed, seeing the clock hit 11pm and not seeing any signs of him coming anytime soon and before you could help it you would fall asleep curled to his side of the bed. There was only one time when you were able to stay up until he came, sitting all dolled up pretty while you waited for him in your most expensive silk nightgown. Jay didn’t seem to get the hint of you needing and craving his attention, because he simply kissed you goodnight before making his way to the bathroom to get ready to sleep. You decided that you were gonna give him the silent treatment, but you couldn’t ignore someone who wasn’t even in the house. You stopped trying to wait for him, you were only wasting your efforts so you just waited for this dry spell to be over. It’s not like you only missed Jay for sex, but you were a healthy woman with needs and your ovaries were screaming at you.

“You know I don't mean to do that, baby.” Jay said as he got up, making you turn your back to him. You knew your sulking was being unreasonable but if you didn’t exaggerate in your reactions Jay wouldn’t do anything about this. “Y/n, please look at me, princess.” your husband said, grabbing your arms to turn you around. You faced him, looking up at him with the best puppy eyes you could pull. Jay brought his hand up to brush your cheek, making you lean into his touch. “You know I love more than anything in this world, don’t you?” He asked as he held your face, making you look at him in the eyes. You nodded at him, your eyes drifting from his eyes to his pouty lips you adored and missed so much. He seemed to get the hint and sat back in his chair, patting his lap, motioning for you to sit on his lap.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you got comfortable in his lap. Jay leaned forward, capturing your lips for a passionate kiss. You kissed him back eagerly, trying to get as close as possible to him. His pillowy lips fitted perfectly with yours and you felt like you were getting on cloud nine. His tongue licked at your lips, indulging them to open up, making you do so. His tongue danced around with yours, not trying to fight for dominance with yours. You moaned in his mouth as he sucked on your tongue, making you clench your thighs together. You pulled away from the kiss, feeling your cheeks grow hotter and hotter with each second passing by. 

“Jay…” You said, your voice merely above a whisper. “Yeah, baby?” He leaned his forehead into yours, making you close your eyes shut. “Need you so bad, Jay. Please.” You whined against him, your ass slightly grinding against his crotch. Jay laughed at your answer, almost feeling bad for what he was about to do. “Yeah? Tell me what you need me to do. Use your big girl words.” He said with a smirk, his lips brushing against yours, making your craving for him grow even more. “Need your cock, Jay. Need you to fuck me so hard. Please…” You buried your head in the crook of his neck, embarrassed by your own neediness. “Such a good girl using your words, aren’t you, pretty girl?” He asked not actually looking for an answer but you nodded anyway. “That’s right, baby.” He started. “It’s a shame I need to leave for a meeting now, isn’t it? But big girls like you can wait, don’t they?” 

Your eyes widened at his words. Your hands went to his shoulders, grabbing his suit jacket in desperation.“No, no! Please, Jay. Don’t do this, please.” You begged, making Jay chuckle. “Look at you. Going dumb for my cock.” He said grabbing your chin with his soft hand. “I thought better than that didn’t I? If you don’t behave you might not even get anything tonight, get it?” You felt tears of frustration prickling in your eyes, but you blinked them away as you nodded at him. “Use your words.” He demanded, grabbing your face harder. “Yes, I understand.” You answered, feeling pathetic for how you felt yourself getting even more wet. “Good.” He said releasing your face. “Now, go home and wait for me. And don’t you dare touch yourself until I get back tonight.” And with that he walked away towards the meeting room, leaving you alone in his office with all your efforts of looking good going to waste.

You felt like you would burst with how desperate and needy you were. Jay had sent you home more than 3 hours ago and he still hadn’t come back. If this was some stupid test where he was trying to test your patience, well, it can end right here right now, because you had none, at least at the moment. You were lying in bed staring at the ceiling, feeling your panties uncomfortably stick to your core. You tried to distract yourself with anything you could. You scrolled endlessly through your phone and even spent a good amount of time and money in online shopping just for the heck of it. You sighed for the nth time that evening as you closed your eyes trying to think of something that wasn’t your husband or his dick inside you.

You looked at the clock on your nightstand seeing it was way past 6pm and just as you were about to get up from bed, you heard the front door slam open. Your face quickly stretched with a smile as you looked at the door waiting for Jay to make his entrance. You heard his footsteps getting close, making you bite your lip with anticipation. The door finally opened revealing your husband loosening his tie, his eyes sharp and dark with what could only be lust. He walked to stand at the foot of the bed, admiring you, still wearing the outfit from earlier, your thighs pressed together.

Jay’s knees dipped the mattress as he got up on the bed, towering over you, making you look up at him with those doe eyes of yours. His hands grabbed both of your knees, pulling your legs apart so he could lean down to your height. His lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine before spreading kisses all over the skin there. You closed your eyes with a moan as he sucked that one spot that made you weak, sucking on the area before soothing it with his tongue. He pulled back looking at you in the eyes. “Poor baby.” He said caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Waited so patiently for me, didn’t you, pretty?” You nodded your head at him as a whine escaped your pouty lips. “Think you deserve a reward, no?” He asked rolling his sleeves up his forearms. “Yes! Yes, Jay. I waited for so long. Deserve it so bad, please.” You said as you felt your eyes tear up from the relief of finally getting what you’ve been waiting for. “That’s right, baby. Been so cruel to you, haven’t I? Making you wait like that.” His face leaned closer to yours, your noses brushing against each other before Jay crashed his lips against yours in a needy kiss. 

The sound of your lips smacking filled the room. Your teeth clashed against each other, but nothing mattered right now. Jay’s hands roamed up from your thighs until they reached the hem of your top, pulling it off of you easily, revealing your lacy bra. “Fuck.” He muttered under his breath. “You’ve been wearing this the whole day?” He asked making you nod at him. “Wore it just for you, Jay.” You said in a whiny tone. “Yeah? It’s a shame it’s coming off later. Or should we keep it?” He didn’t allow you to answer as he captured your lips in another kiss, biting your lower lip, making you let out a low moan.

The air in the room seemed to be getting hotter, the sound of your breathy moans started getting louder the needier you both got. Jay laid you down on the bed, settling himself in between your legs. His hands circled your hips, searching for the zip of your skirt. He got up to pull off your skirt leaving you in your lacy set. He licked his lips as he looked you up and down, his eyes stopping at the dark spot in your panties. You closed your thighs shut, suddenly feeling shy. He chuckled at you as he opened them back, sliding down on the bed, his face now eye level with your cunt.

He started kissing on your inner thighs, whiney moans leaving your parted lips as you laced your fingers in his hair trying to lead his head to the place you needed him the most. “Be patient, baby.” He said in a soft voice but it felt like a warning. You gasped when you felt his nose nudge against your clothed clit. “Please, Jay. Need it so bad, can’t take it anymore.” Jay let out a hum at that. “Need what, pretty? Need you to be more specific.” You held back a frustrated groan. “Need your tongue, please.” Jay seemed pleased with your words as he pulled your panties down, revealing your glistening pussy. He let out a shaky breath as he closed his eyes and inhaled your sweet scent. You felt your heart thump in your chest as you felt his hot breath get closer to your heat.

His tongue made contact with your clit in an experimental flick, your thighs wanting to close around his head as you let out a soft moan at the small contact. His lips engulfed your nub, sucking on your bunch of nerves as you pull his hair harder. Jay closes his eyes as he focuses on pleasuring you, giving you what you earned. His mouth moves south as his tongue teases your entrance, your sweet taste hitting his taste buds making him moan lowly, the vibrations causing you to squirm against him. He moved his tongue further, getting inside your warm cunt as his nose bumped against your clit, stimulating it. Your brain going numb from the pleasure you missed so much, your moans getting louder the further his tongue got inside of you. Jay twisted and turned his tongue in your insides, at this point doing it for his own pleasure as he rutted his hips against the mattress.

“Please, Jay. Need your fingers, fuck!” You begged him as you looked down to where his mouth met your cunt, making you moan at the sight. He didn’t speak a word as he obliged to your request. He pulled his mouth off of you and before you could complain, his two fingers replaced his tongue, entering you with ease. You let out a silent moan as his lips made their way back to your clit as his fingers kept thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. He was hitting all of your favourite spots, making you see starts. You started to feel the familiar knot form in your stomach, your thighs clenching around his head as you grinded against his face, smothering him with your essence.

“Fuck, Jay. I’m so close!” You were panting at this point, holding his face in the spot, afraid you would lose the sweet pleasure you were feeling. Jay’s fingers didn’t falter and you felt yourself getting closer and closer, squelching sounds filled the room along with your rapid breathing. Suddenly his fingers hit the spongy spot inside you, making you let out a silent scream as you let yourself get the sweet release you craved so much. “F-Fuck Jay. Oh my god!” You said as he pulled away from your pussy, but kept his fingers going inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm. He leaned down, kissing your lips and swallowing your moans. You whined in overstimulation, pulling his fingers out of you. “Thank you, Jay.” You said smiling at him, making him laugh at you as he rested his forehead on yours. “You deserve it, baby.” He said as he lovingly pecked your forehead.

You got up on your knees in front of him as you started pawing at his belt, trying to undo it. “Wanna suck you off.” You said, batting your eyelashes up at him. “No need to do that now, princess.” He said removing your hands from him and undoing his pants himself. You pouted your lips at his rejection. “Please, Jay! I really wanna do it!” You whined against him. He closes his eyes, letting out a breathy shake. “Y/n, if I don’t fuck you right now I’m gonna bust in my pants, so shut up and just let me fuck your pussy, yeah?” Words got stuck in your throat at his words, eyes watching his every move as he removed all of his clothes, now standing in all his naked glory.

Your eyes roamed from his sculpted face, down to his abs and when they were reaching his crotch, his hand held your chin, making you look up at his smirking face. “Eyes up here, doll.” You blushed, smiling up at him making him mirror your expression. Jay leaned down and connected your lips with yours while slowly lying you back down again. He hovered over you, his cock bushing against your core just slightly but it still makes you shudder when you feel it.

You tried to sit up to remove your bra but Jay stopped you. “Jay- My bra!” You whined. “Keep it.” He said sternly and you obviously weren’t gonna deny him that. His lips went back to yours, kissing you passionately. One of your hands travelled down his chest until it reached his member. You wrapped your warm hand around him, making him hiss in your mouth. You gathered some pre-cum that leaked from the tip to aid you when you started stroking him. Your hand felt delicious around him. It squeezed and twisted in all right places, making him buck his hips in your fist. Jay took your hand off of him and went to reach his nightstand where he kept his condoms, but your hand stopped him. “Fuck me raw, Jay. Please.”

Maybe it was the way there was a slight whine or maybe it was the way your eyes looked up at him, but somehow, Jay found himself agreeing with his wife. “Fuck, ok.” Jay grabbed the base of his cock and aligned it with your entrance, not wasting any time to thrust unto you. The raw feeling of your walls wasn’t foreign to him, but it had been a while and he felt like he could bust a nut right there and then. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling every vein and bump of his dick as you moaned loudly. 

Jay stayed still for a while before pulling back until only his tip was inside before thrusting back in. Your eyes opened wide as you felt him hit seep inside you as he started fucking you at a fast pace. Your hands desperately scratched his back, in need of something to hold on to. Your moans along with his sounded like a melody to you. The sound of skin slapping and the lewd sounds coming from your wet pussy filled the room. The feeling of his tip almost hitting your cervix was becoming almost overwhelming to you and your moans were coming out almost silent from the immense pleasure. Both of your bodies were now covered in a sheen layer of sweat, making your husband glow under the warm light of your bedroom.

His body was gliding against yours just perfectly, intensifying your feelings. He propped himself on his elbows, now closer to you, making your nipples rub against his. Your moans were getting louder as his fat tip started hitting the spongy spot. “Need more. More, please, Jay!” You begged, taking all of your energy to voice out your request. Jay chuckled at you. “I’m already fucking you this hard and you still need more, huh?” He said making you whine. Suddenly he stopped, making you whine. He sat up on his knees as he grabbed your hips and turned you around, putting you with your ass up.

Your face was buried in your pillow as he rubbed his tip against your slit, making you moan as you squirmed your hips against his cock. He rubbed your butt as he inserted himself back into you, reaching deeper than before. You let out a scream you felt his hand smack against your ass cheek as he thrusts into you furiously. He groaned as he threw his head back when your cunt clenched around him, almost getting him stuck inside you. His hips were pistoning into you at a steady pace, going at the perfect rhythm. Your mouth was agap and drool was pooling on the side of your mouth. “Look at you. Dumb for some cock.” He scoffed, but his voice was shaky showing you he was just as fucked out as you. You whined into the pillow, hiding your face.

“Jay!” You screamed, “I’m so fucking close, please don’t stop!” His dick twitched when you raised your head to look back at him. Your face was flushed, eyes droopy, mouth parted as nothing but moans came out of it, completely fucked out to even think properly. His thrusts started getting slightly sloppy, but he tried his best to keep up. Your moans were staccato to the rhythm of his thrusts. Your chest started heaving up and down in fast breaths. “J-Jay, M’gonna cum! I’m gonna-” You were interrupted by your climax. spilling all over your thighs and his too. “Fuck!” Was the last thing Jay said before thick ribbons of his cum started filling you up as he stayed still inside of you, making you moan at the warm feeling.

Jay was leaning in your back, breathing against your ear. Both of you too gone to even speak. After you both came down from your highs, Jay slowly pulled out from you, making you whine. He stared at your pussy, watching as his cum mixed with his spilled out from you. You collapsed on the bed, breath still a bit uneven, with your eyes closed as you started feeling sleepy. Jay lays beside you with a thump, making you open your eyes to look at him. You both stared at each other before you both started laughing. Jay pulled you into his chest, embracing you, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

You heard him take a deep breath before he spoke. “I’m sorry if I’ve been neglecting you. I never intended to do it, I promise I’ll try harder to be home earlier.” His words made you look up from his chest. “Jay, you haven’t been neglecting me. At all. I understand that you are going through something important at work, I just missed you, it’s all!” You said caressing his cheeks with your thumb. “And besides, you should know you were marrying a slut when you signed that paper.” You said, making both of you laugh. “You’re no such thing, baby.” He said laughing. “Yeah, whatever. Can we take a shower now? Your cum is drying inside of me.” “Whatever the lady wants!”

[tarjapearce]

Lips Anon! Okay, imagine imagine... You are the 18 yr old daughter of Miguel's secretary. Your mom had to work harder because of the death of her husband/your father, and managed to become Miguel's Secretary. Secretary has a huge crush on Miguel after becoming his secretary, but he's after something else... You. He's not the kindest of men here. He tells you if you ever reject or tell he'll fire your mom. A dark fate awaits you...I'm sorry in a dark mood lol love u

Remember when I said I wanted something dark? Jksjsksj found this in the ask box and YESSS BABY

WICKED GAMES

ShamelessCEO! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Power play, power imbalance, smut, No proofread, fingering, slight anal play, implicit mentions of squirt, oral (F receiving), Dom! Miguel, Corruption Kink, Mild degratadion, blackmailing, nipple play, cum, Dark Miguel, slight angst, dubious morals.

Summary: Miguel offers you a deal you can't refuse, even if you wanted to.

"Bend over, preciosa."

The voice you had been obeying for the last month ordered. Ever deep and sultry, it had butterflies rioting in your stomach.

Your skin crawled when two deft fingers hovered and dragged over the outline of a flimsy piece of mesh fabric, that accomplished poorly it's role of a thong, leaving little to nothing to his already wild and rampant imagination.

Hands trailed the supple globes of flesh your rear always carried, awaiting to be spanked. It was his ritual before he messed with your senses, his new favorite hobby.

The sight made him groan. Lace and tulle adorned your body in the most skimpiest of ways you had only seen in famous catalogues of lingerie.

And somehow he had turned you into his personal Polly Pocket. If he told you to undress in the middle of his office, you'd obey. If he told you to put on some lingerie that barely covered your tits or holes, you'd obey.

And if he told you to open up, you'd sit ontop of his desk and spread your legs.

Refusal of his antics would only bring devastating consequences to your already little and tattered home. Or so, he had cleared up a month ago. He was shameless.

A shameless CEO of the Medical Research Facility in Alchemax, Miguel O'Hara, that also happened to be your mother's boss.

A boss which, the poor woman had been crushing over for months now. She'd come home with a brightest beam on her face, something that only your father provoked when he lived. She'd gush about him like a teenager in love. She'd ramble for hours if she could and for what you heard he seemed to be a pretty decent man.

A sudden heart attack had left you both widowed and fatherless.

But life didn't stopped. Debts and bills that always arrived on time in the mailbox, the house's mortgage that had slowly chipped away your mother's sanity, had made you drop out of college to find a job and help around with the expenses. And still wasn't enough.

You had seen the exhaustion in your mother's eyes, her depleting smile faltering through the months after she was fired from her current job, trying to be strong for the both as you turned into the main provider, until she landed a job at Alchemax.

Things improved, you quit your second job and had the option to do some trade school. Life gave you a little slack.

Until you assisted to a gala with your mom.

She had enough to afford a beautiful pair of dresses and a lovely makeover that had left you both looking mesmerizing. She tried her best into have a bit of Miguel's attention. She was beautiful, a milf according to your male friends. Nearly in her late thirties.

You didn't want to interrupt whatever thing rich men did in these sort of events, but your mother, stunning and stubborn as she was wanted to greet her boss, despite your initial refusals. You didn't have the heart to say no to her.

And no wonder why she was over the moon with him. Handsome was an understatement, his imposing aura made your eyes avert from his form, skin crawled when you both stepped closer to his personal space. Like if presenting yourselves to the big bad wolf.

"Mr. O'Hara?" The man in question turned to your mother with a piercing stare, watching her with his usual cold look until his brown eyes landed on you. "This is my daughter."

Twinkling with a discreet amusement, ignoring your mother's words to take you in completely.

"Nice to meet you, hermosa."

He squeezed your hand in a gentle and polite handshake while a brief smile appeared. One look, was all he needed for his brain to whirlwind with thoughts he rarely indulged. Miguel was bored.

But not for long.

In the rest of the party you felt someone watching your every move from the shadows.

----

Call it a coincidence, fate or whatever powerful strength above you that put you in the same elevator as him when you were about to visit your mother.

"This is the executive elevator"

Shit.

Your mind immediately reprimanded you for not being careful enough

"I'm sorry."

You were about to leave when the doors slammed shut on your face, your feet stepping back. He had closed the doors.

"I didn't know it was exclusive use only."

Miguel took a brief look at his watch, "It's alright. We're going to the same floor anyways."

Of course, your mother worked in the same floor as he was. Silence however made a space between you, comfortable enough until Miguel broke it.

"Do you study?"

Your throat cleared while giving a quiet nod.

"Work?"

"Yeah. Uhm... Today is my day off actually. Just wanted to say hi to mom."

How cute.

Miguel chuckled while the elevator kept moving upwards, taking it's time. His presence alone had your arms holding yourself, squeezing at the flesh nearby the elbows and heart pounding up your throat.

"You two seem close." Miguel tilted his head as his eyes remained on you, seizing you with the same stare he gave you at the party.

"Oh, heh. Yeah. It's just us. Dad died some years ago."

"Sorry to hear about it."

You shrugged as your feet shuffled. The butterflies in your stomach tickled your insides, blood rushed involuntarily to your cheeks the more scrutinized you felt.

"Thanks. Life goes on though."

"True. How much you get paid in your job?"

"W-What?" You had to blink a couple of times before facing him.

"Not much, that for sure."

He just hummed while his lips pursed. It was more than enough info to have his plan set into motions.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

A derisive snort came your way, "No. I don't have time for it."

"Too busy working?."

"Exactly. Mom needs all the help she can."

Miguel squeezed the metallic bar behind him. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

"You're a good woman."

The compliment deepened the flush. A meek thank you was music to his ears and he pulled out a card to then giving it to you. His cologne mushing your senses into a pulp.

Your brow quirked and again, he focused all the attention in you.

"If you need extra help, call me. I think I need a personal assistant"

"Wait... I thought mom was already doing that?"

"She's my secretary, not my assistant. Different jobs. But the choice is all yours."

The elevator's door dinged, finally releasing you both.

"I'll await for your response."

With those final words he left you alone, setting his plan in motion.

----

You were fired. Without much explanation, or a valid reason other than 'We're cutting people short."

It was too soon, too sudden and way too coincidental. It had only been two days since you talked to Miguel, and two days things had been tense at work.

When your mom knew about the news, she wasn't pleased but couldn't really blame you, and when you told her about Miguel, the hesitation was more than enough to send you spiraling in anxiety.

"He's a demanding person, cupcake. Are you sure you wanna do this?"

Resolution only increased when the new mortgage bill rested on the table.

"I know it won't be easy, but I have to. We're almost done with the house's payments."

"That's my job, sweetie. You can go back to college and-"

"Get even more in debt again? No. Mom, look. I know you don't like me to help you, but I wanna do it. Okay?"

She didn't say much, but supported you.

His phone rang and rang to no avail.

I'm the morning however a text message had you rushing through everything.

—Interview at 10.

----

You made it. barely. Mom helped you to dry the sweat forming in your forehead as she announced your presence to Miguel.

"You can do this, ok? If not, don't worry."

She kissed your forehead and let you in. A security door locked behind you.

You knew Alchemax was rotting in money, but his office was ridiculous. Expensive portraits adorning the beige walls, seats made out of the fine leathers, perfect for hosting a personal party if he wished, and finally your eyes met him. Sitting in his throne, watching you with his usual piercing eyes.

His hands motioned you to follow him as he entered through the previous door you saw before to reveal a much more personal space. A semicircular leather couch, with a bar in front.

Bottles of different liqueurs and colors had you looking back and forth through them. Cups and glasses neatly arranged in them, he went behind the bar and served himself some whiskey.

Your surprise at the place grandeur didn't go unnoticed by him. It made him smirk.

"Want a drink?"

"Uh, no. I'm alright. Thanks."

He downed a shot of whiskey while sitting on the couch, to then pat the space next to him.

Hesitation started to nest out when you sat, his aura and form swallowing you whole.

"Let's go straight to the point."

Eyes darted back at his face while nodding.

"Of course. What would my functions be?"

"None of that boring bureaucratic shit, that's for sure."

You blinked, confused, but your senses flared in danger when a bold hand of his rested on your knee, gently squeezing you.

"Uhm... Mr. O'Hara-"

"I need your full commitment, if you're working for me. Can you do that?"

"I-I need to know what's gonna be my job, if I'm-"

"If?" A disapproving array of 'tsk' came out of him, his whole frame faced you now while he loosened his tie.

"I don't think you're understanding, sweetie. I don't want ifs here. I like a yes or no. You see, your mother is a good employee."

You gulped, not really enjoying where this conversation was going.

"And you're jobless. A lot of debts to pay come your mailbox every month" Your face recoiled from his lingering touch as he removed a strand of hair out of your face, "Must be hard for her, taking all of that in her shoulders"

His hand slid on your shoulder and you casted your eyes away.

"But you, are brave to help her. I like brave girls like you."

It was more than enough for you to stand in a rush to leave, but he grabbed your wrist with enough force to stop you, but immediately pulled you against his chest, back colliding against his solid wall of muscles.

"Don't be afraid, cielito. I won't hurt you."

"Let me go, please."

"Why would I let my new assistant go?"

"I don't want to-"

"The only thing you have to do is be there for me whenever I require it from you."

"I'm not turning into your fucking fuck toy!"

His hand covered yours for a second to tone down your voice.

"Fuck toy? Quite the imagination you have. Let me put it simple and straight for you. You leave? Your mom does too."

Angry tears flooded your eyes while he squeezed your chin with a lazy smile

"But if you stay, and take the job, "He nuzzled your neck softly, sending shivers down your spine," I'll give her a raise."

You stilled for a moment and he let you go, to pour himself some more whiskey.

Numbness spreaded through your head, the glass clinking echoed in the little space. Head felt buzzing and spinning with so many thoughts that screamed and pushed in your head to come up to a proper reply.

Leave it!

No, your mom, the mortgage-

Take it!

He's rich, and mom needs a break from money, you're so close paying up everything!

No! He's bad. You're not a slut! He only wants your body!

But mom would be happy...

A hand on your cheek, stroking you lips put a halt to all the rebelling thoughts, forcing your focus to go back to him.

"So, yes or no?"

----

"W-Wait!" Your plea came out as a shaky moan as he rubbed in lazy circles your clit over the lace panties he made you wear.

Lace and tulle were his favorites, you noted. The first thing he did was to give you the rules.

"Someone could enter at any moment!"

If he'd need you, you'd assist him in any way he saw fit. You wouldn't call him for anything besides business. Everything would happen between you both, was to remain between you and whatever the place he chose.

He shrugged "We're working. Ahora callate." (Shut up)

You wouldn't call him by his name, Mr. O'Hara or Sir would suffice. Contraceptives were a must. No kissing, you weren't to wear underwear around him unless absolute necessary and certainly no interaction past your stablished contract.

He picked a red silk and mesh set of panties, that perfectly adjusted at your size.

His thumb applied the gradual pressure that had you covering your mouth and trapping his hand between your legs.

"Why am I not hearing you?"

His hand slapped with enough force your pussy to send a jolt through your body, ending in a loud gasp.

"Don't cover your mouth. Understood?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

Mom was so excited when you told her you had accepted the job offer.

His hands fumbled with his buckle, moving past the layers of clothes to release his proud and girthy cock free. You were sprawled all over his desk, tits exposed from the confinements of your button shirt.

He trailed a finger between the moist and supple pair of lips that swallowed the silk, soaking them when he pushed it above your pulsating cunt.

Breathings heaved, and a tiny whimper was brave enough to escape as he rubbed his tip between your clothed folds.

His grunts and foreign mumbling had your skin tickling. He slapped his cock before pressing tighter against your pussy, rubbing urgently and desperately.

You groaned as your breaths turned curt and shallow. One of his hands pinned your hips down in place, his cock moved sideways on your clit with such speed it had you sputtering and trembling.

He covered your mouth, drowning the delicious cry that announced your climax, as he glazed your folds with his cum. Hot and thick blobs of cum permeated the fabric, burning your skin deliciously.

The flush in his cheeks and ears spreaded through his face. Plump lips panted and heaved as his eyes trailed over your convulsing body. Taut peaks swayed at the pace of your breathings.

The phone next to you rang, startling you both. With the remaining strength in your body, you stood to fix your clothing and hair to look the least unkempt as possible.

"Mr. O'Hara, the meeting with Aaron is within two hours. Would you like to confirm?"

Your mother's voice pierced through the intercom. Your eyes casted away from him and the crime scene.

There wasn't an aftercare per say, it all revolved around his pleasure after all. But apparently he loved having you marked with his scent. But you weren't one for following such things, too uncomfortable to walk around with cum stained panties, so you threw them away and cleaned yourself up in his personal's bathroom, then went back to your mini office on his right.

----

At first there was nothing more but him jerking off to oblivion and cumming on your panties, that always were discarded afterwards, no matter how cute they were.

But as days passed, his ways turned bolder. He had asked you to get undressed and give him a show on his chair. Although shy at first, he talked through the whole process, training you to the point of cumming with three fingers inside you all while he recorded your climax with one hand, and stroked himself with the other.

But it wasn't enough. On a particular day, he felt like having you sit on his lap, mounds out, one on his mouth as his cock was trapped between your thighs, covered in the slick your drenched folds drowned him in.

Tongue swirled while he suckled, earning lovely mewls from your mouth. Your phone rang, and he groaned, frustrated.

The vibrations of his grumble made you whimper, while shaky hands grabbed the trinket. Mom's number on the screen.

"Pick up." His tongue twirled on your nipple once more as his arms pulled you upwards to sit on his lap. One of his hands darted on your soaked swell to prod two fingers around, but stopped upon seeing you looking at him.

"Pick the fuck up" With a gulp you took some air before pressing the green button. It was your mom's day off

"H-Hey mom"

You had to pill the phone away as he slid in the two digits inside and you bit your lip.

"-you? How is it going?"

"I'm doing just fine."

His fingers prodded and buried themselves deeper while wriggling inside.   Brown deep eyes never faltered in watching you. Engraving each and single one of your expressions as he moved his  fingers deftly inside you, leaving wet slurps of your cunt echoing the more he moved. His mouth sucked the hardened nub with such hunger it had you biting your lip to avoid moaning.

"What do you want for dinner? I'm making pasta. Is that alright?"

"Y-Yeah. That's-"

Your spine arched as you watched his fingers disappearing inside your slick and folds, "That's great." You clenched your jaw while your head threw back.

"Okay! See you at night, sweetie. Love you!"

"Lov... Love you too"

Miguel grabbed your phone and hung the call, to hear you as he increased the pace of his fingering. The tight knot coiling into your lower pit, spreading and consuming everything like a wild fire.

Miguel could only watch your blissful face as you gushed all over his hand.

"Such a good girl."

He mumbled through rough licks and sucks, leaving your nipple puffed and sensitive.

And now a month after getting used to a certain part of his antics, you were bent over the desk, flimsy mesh fabric covering your awaiting hole.

"Beautiful" His praising was odd, yet it left a tingling and warm shimmy on your heart. He pulled you to stand again and pulled the panties off.

He put one of your legs ontop of the sturdy surface and kneeled behind you. Face immediately sinking between your thighs and flesh. A yelp flew out in the air as he slurped and played with your clit, two of his fingers teasing your butthole.

Papers were crumpled underneath your hands as he delved his tongue and coiled it inside your weeping pussy. Souping and guzzling down your slick. His fingers sunk in your tighter hole, prodding softly.

"Look at that" He mumbled while sucking the outer labia before dribbling his tongue up and down, skin full of goosebumps, as your jaw clenched, trying to not scream at the unbearable sensation in your holes.

"You didn't want this job and now look at you." He slapped your glutes so hard it left a flushed pink imprint on it. And it only made you wetter, "Such a good little toy for me."

His fingers in your butthole prodded and spreaded. His hot breath fanned on your cunt, a trail of your slick and his lips connected on eachother.

"Feels good doesn't it?"

Miguel pulled your hips backwards, pressing your pussy against his mouth, devouring you like a starved man. Your knees bucked and your toes curled in. He  gasped for air while you mumbled the most incoherent things that came out your mouth, a clear reflect on what he did to your mind.

"Feels good to be paid to be used, Hm?"

Another spank and it had you whimpering a delicious 'Yes'

"You love when I use you, preciosa?"

The tip his fingers rubbed and poked at your insides.

"Y-Yes"

"See? Honesty can take you places."

You noted that he'd never go to the extent of fucking you, despite the implant nesting within your left arm.

"P-Please"

"Hm? What was that?"

His fingers dug deeper and faster as they hooked inside you, reaching easily that sweet spot that had you sobbing and pushing your hips against it.

"Please, sir!"

Miguel's dark smirk widened when he suddenly stopped, just when you were about to cum. A frustrated whine came off your lips and he grabbed you by the hair, cornering you against him and the desk.

"Go change, sweetie. That's all for today."

"But-"

"I said, that's fucking it for today, understood?"

"Yes, sir"

A shamed pant came off your mouth while getting off the desk, hips protested, but you made your way towards the bathroom.

Reality came flooding like a tsunami on your thoughts. You had been too carried away to remember it was all a game.

You cleaned yourself up before beginning to change.

He'd always have the upper hand. And no matter how much you tried to not react to his ministrations, your body always disobeyed greatly.

Your hair was fixed as you put on the outer layers of clothes. Miguel had made you admit all those shameful things you were avoiding to say.

At first it was just to keep mom happy and away from trouble. Hell, she even doubled her praising for Miguel and how much a good boss he was. And your paycheck always came on time, he had kept his sword like he said he would.

And still the emotional toll of such choice you had taken was finally catching up with you.

It all was a game. And you his favorite toy.

[readychilledwine]

Dancing with Eris Vanserra Headcanons?

Sway

Dancing with Eris Headcanons

Warnings - none.

A/N - I have a whole playlist for this subject. Writing Eris dancing is honestly becoming an obsession.

P.s. You'll get a detailed scene of that in Kissed by Fire.

Eris learned to dance from his mother. His father did not see if as a necessary skill, but Mama Vanserra saw it as a necessary outlet.

She has had him dancing since he could stand on her toes. She would count the little steps out to him while teaching him the story and meaning behind each dance.

It soon became an object of pride Beron used. Another way to brag about the son he was not actually proud of.

He would use Eris's skills to seduce females for information, or Mother forbid a father upset the High Lord and had a pretty daughter. Then it was a warning.

Until, you, that is.

Your father is one of Eris's spies, planted as an advisor to Beron. Once you were of age, Beron insisted on a large ball to honor you and present you as an eligible bachelorette to the Autumn Court.

Beron had Eris offer you a dance. It was the first time Beron forced him to dance with a female where it wasn't a warning or filled with ill intent.

Eris will never forget that night. Your hair had been curled and fell into loose waves, a braid wrapped the back of your hair with pieces pulled through. Your father and mother spared no expense to purchase diamonds to decorate your hair with.

He remembers the way you flushed when he offered you his hand. The way you quietly squeaked when his hand rested on your hip once you two were centered on the floor.

He remembers the feel of the rich red velvet dress and its full skirt. He remembers the whispers of scandal over the sweetheart necklace decored with diamonds and sheer nude sleeves that matched your skintone perfectly and matched as well. It was a nod to your mother's Night Court heritage while still accepting fashion standards from Autumn.

The first dance you two shared was a traditional waltz.

It would be the same dance you two would share for your first as husband and wife one year later.

Eris never had a dance partner like you. Someone who was as trained as he was, who loved to dance as much as he did.

Nesta had been fun to dance with, but she did not hold a candle to you.

You and Eris spend most of your time dancing. Sometimes, it's alone with instruments enchanted to play in the ballroom. Sometimes, it's to absolutely no music, your head on his chest. Your arms would rest up his strong back while one of his wrapped your waist and the other cradled your head.

The two of you are the opening dance for every Autumn ball, a tradition handed over by Beron to Eris to allow him to drink instead of perform his duties.

It allowed you two so much more freedom to decide the tone of the ball. It was a symbol of power Beron unknowingly and stupidly handed his son.

It also allowed you two to bring back a dance Beron had banned. The tango. He had deemed it too sexual, too scandalous.

The dance was too ingrained in Autumn culture to allow it to rest and be forgotten.

When Beron died under mysterious circumstances, dancing became more common in Autumn again.

In the streets, in the pubs, in The Forest House.

It became all too common to hear you and Eris laughing as he spun and dipped you.

His body was more relaxed now, allowing the movements to feel almost Godlike now.

When you two finally have a family, the made tradition continues.

From the moment your little daughter holds her head up well enough, Eris holds her close, letting her hold his finger in her little hand and swaying her.

Then Eris echos his own mother, having your sweet girl stand on his feet as he teaches her the steps.

Her first dance presented to the court was a magic moment for Eris.

She was in your dress. That beautiful red velvet dress. He looked at you during the dance, eyes lined with tears as you held your young son.

You would always be his favorite partner. His perfect match. But his daughter, your daughter, she would be close second.

It was a fairytale for him. It healed that last part of dancing that had been so tainted by Beron.

He had spent the rest of the night dancing with you, watching closely as male after male approaches your daughter

You trailed his eyes, seeing the lights dancing off your daughter's flaming red hair. "A beauty, is she not?"

"She is exquisite. My finest work." His lips twitched in pride. Eyes beginning to water again. "I do not plan on letting her go gently."

"Perhaps you will have a dance off with whomever she decides is worthy of her love."

Eris smirked at the idea, the bond now glowing as he dipped you and kissed your neck. "And now I know how we replace the blood duels. I would never lose."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

[dirtysvthoughts]

the jihoon brain rot continues besties 🥹 this is inspired by @bluejeanstrash who (as far as i know) came up with the idea of rich ceo husband! jihoon, and this year’s gda has given me so much ideas:

tags/warnings: rich ceo husband! jihoon, wife! reader, fluff to smut, smut portion contains pet names (darling, pretty baby, etc.), mentions of sexting and nudes, thigh riding, mentions of fingering, ass grabbing, he’s just so hot y’all and i’m upset i can’t have him do things to me 🙃

rich ceo husband! jihoon who would:

absolutely love spoiling you as his pretty wife, even of you don’t ask for it. one day, you came home to a beautiful, expensive silver necklace with a note attached that read: “just cause. i love my darling.” - JH

cater to you in more ways than one - everyday when he gets off work he’s calling and asking if you need anything, a meal, something from the store, whatever you may need, he’s going to fulfill it for you. if he can’t go out and get himself, he’s gonna send someone to get it for him.

be the type to kiss you on your forehead while you sleep before he goes off to work in the morning.

like the original author said, everyone in the company knows who you are and they don’t dare disrespect you. if jihoon finds out that you’ve been disrespected, they’re getting fired on the spot. he doesn’t play about you.

adore you physically (from head to toe) and emotionally. you found each other at the right time in your lives, and you mean so much to him. even though he’s not the best with his words, he wants to prove how much he loves you with his actions.

now for what y’all have been waiting for:

whenever he wears his ap or other luxury watches on his wrist, your pussy can’t help but clench. a hot man with an expensive watch on hand is such a lethal combo.

sometimes when jihoon has to stay at the company late (dealing with one of his artists or another business venture), he can expect some form of a sext, sensual pic, or even a nude from you when you’re needy. you lace your message with such sweetness (“daddy come home, please? 🥺🥺) that is has him wanting to tease you, but it has him craving for you too. he ends up just telling you to wait patiently like a good girl until he comes home.

rich ceo husband! jihoon has such soft dom! vibes, he loves fucking you against the mattress, hearing your cute little voice call for him, hearing you whine for more. would say stuff along the lines of “mmmm, take this dick, just like that.. fuck yeah, pretty baby” and “say my name again, you make it sound so pretty in that mouth of yours.” also, jihoon would definitely adore you calling him sir!

many a late night is spent at home with you riding his thighs, both of you on the sectional that takes up most of the living room. his suit jacket is tossed on another side of the couch, his white button down has the sleeves rolled up, his black tie is a little loose, and his long hair falling delicately on his eyes. jihoon LOVES roaming his hands across your legs, waist, but he loves it even more when he grabs your ass and you bite your lip in response. when you’ve come all over his pants, and his dick is hard from how good you are, you’re kissing his neck and jihoon’s caressing your face, telling you to take off your panties so he can finger your wet cunt next.

[everlastlady]

Husband Mammon HCS

✘Posted: 11/6/2023

✘Story Contains: Just some Mammon husband hcs

✘Author's Note: Hello, here are some Mammon husband hcs. Because I'm I still have to feed y'all some Mammon content. So don't worry mama will continue to put Mammon food on the table. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

✧ - Husband Mammon who absolutely adores you from head to toe. He finds everything about you fascinating whether you are a human, imp, hellhound, or whatever you are. Mammon loves you and doesn't let anyone talk shit about you. People better watch what they say about you because Mammon isn't scared to defend you. Mammon also doesn't let you talk bad about yourself. He understands that self consciousness is a thing. But he doesn't want you to think less about yourself. Mammon is always remember to hype you up and be your cheerleader. Did you get a new outfit well Mammon will hype you up. Just finished working on something well Mammon will hype you up. Or got a new haircut Mammon will hype you up.

✧- Husband Mammon who made sure that you and him had the most expensive and best wedding. Everyone in hell was talking about it. So many people tried to get an invite or snuck in. Mammon also made sure to get you the most expensive wedding outfit and the best ring. The wedding was colors of gold, royal green, and white. Mammon's wedding vows were something he made sure that moved your heart. He cut the cake with you, danced with you, and stayed by your side the entire night. The wedding was actually quite lovely and Mammon loves to renew his vows with you on your wedding day.

✧- Husband Mammon who will get you anything you want. If you wanted to open a store or start a business. Then Mammon will help you and get your name out there. Even making sure your commercials are seen by everyone. You also keep track of what you and Mammon buy which he is grateful for that. Mammon has so many damn credit cards that he always ask you which one is for what businesses or emergencies. Mammon doesn't mind spoiling you, yes he is a greedy bastard but he's not going to be a selfish lover, he'll spoil you and make sure to give you a comfortable life style.

✧- Husband Mammon who doesn't mind having kids or adopting if you asked him about it. Mammon isn't really great with kids but he'll learn how to be a parent if it means having a family with you. If you guys do have a child. Then Mammon spoils them, but you do remind Mammon not to spoil your child so much so that they don't become a rotten brat. Mammon loves to brag about your guys child. He always carries your child. And tells everyone about how amazing the kid is. " Look at my child! " You always find your child asleep on top of Mammon in Mammon's web. It's so adorable that you have to take a picture.

✧- Husband Mammon who always makes sure that you and him have clean rings. He always has a certain day that he goes to have the rings clean. And the cleaners take the job serious because if anything happens to those rings then Mammon will be pissed. Mammon never takes off his ring and I mean never. Unlike you who removes it when you have to wash up or shower. The color of the rings are gold of course. Mammon loves to kiss your hands and tell you how beautiful you are, so many kisses from this man.

✧- Husband Mammon who still remembers how delicious your wedding cake was. " The frosting was so rich~ " Mammon would say. " Mon, please go to bed. " You would say while trying to sleep. Mammon eventually starts getting the cake on your wedding anniversary so after dinner you two always eat the cake and talk about the memories that you two share. " Remember the time I tripped when I met you, hurt like fuck but you could say I fell for you. " Mammon would laugh and hit the table from his joke as you shake your head, you love your goofball husband.

Mammon's Clowns Aka Mammon Tag List: If you want to be added or removed, politely let me know.

@pyromaniam

@stinkykittypet

@queenfishie

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Tom Glynn Carney x actress!reader

Okay imagine Tom Glynn Carney x actress!reader where both are casted in Bridgerton.

You are playing the role of a young Bridgerton who is full of life and lives in luxury and Tom's character is a bastard of a rich family who has been cast aside and lives as a common people

You are scared of your future husband not loving you and only marrying you for the sake of duty. And Tom is someone who only wants to stay away from the rich because it has caused him so much pain

Imagine your character in expensive and beautiful dresses and Tom's character in working clothes. Imagine you going to the market with your maids and friends and getting lost, accidentally went far back and deep where Tom was just lifting up some boxes of goods on a cart. Your first meeting.

Imagine the chemistry. It's always like you two are being pulled towards each other even if both are meters away. The eye contact, accidental hand touching or grabbing.

His character doesn't want to fall in love. He wants nothing to do with the rich but then why does he get jealous when he sees other guys trying to win your heart? Imagine him getting in a fight with one of them and getting hurt. You sneak out at night to go see him and tend to his wounds.

Imagine filming scenes like having the first kiss while you two are arguing. Or spending the night at his cramped up tiny room, your head resting on his chest and his arms around you.

Imagine him pushing you away because he can't give you the life you deserve but he can certainly give you the love you dream of

Imagine filming a lot of touching and emotional scenes with Tom. And the chemistry is just everywhere, even when the characters are away from each other, even when you two are not filming

[vminizzle]

Reflection

pairing : husband!jungkook x f.reader

genre : SMUT, fluff

warnings : marking, praising, pet names, they’re in love huh, penetration, unprotected sex, love making, mirror sex, creampie

words count : 1.7k

A/N : hello lovely people, well husband!jungkook is such a thing gosh, I had to write this. ngl, I got turned on while writing this. The idea was prob better in my head? !POOR ENGLISH! anyways, I hope you guys will like it. Have a nice day everyone. -sunny

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED

M RATED

“here we are!” Jungkook exclaimed happily as he opened the big doors.

You both entered the beautiful villa you booked for the week-end. Jungkook walked beside you, holding his suitcase in one hand, his other hand on your lower back as you walked further through the villa.

You looked around you, admiring the decorations adorning the living room’s tables and walls. It looked so expensive. You had a good view of the pool situated in the garden from the sliding glazed door. The water seemed so clear as the bright sun reflected into it. The water was probably warm, comfortable to swim. Flowers, transats were arranged on the beige tiled floor around the pool. It was just so beautiful. Dream house perhaps?

“what about a midnight bath later, huh?” your husband said teasingly making you roll your eyes.

You walked towards the stairs and went upstairs, Jungkook helping you with your suitcase carrying it for you.

As you opened the bedroom’s doors you were welcomed by the type of large well-decorated and modern bedroom you only see on the internet or in rich people’s in movies. Your eyes sparkled as you approched the floor to ceiling windows, looking outside you could have a great view of the big backyard.

You turned to Jungkook, this one already looking at you smiling softly. You smiled widely as you walked back to him to hug him tightly. “thank you!”

He pecked your forehead gently “everything for my wife."

You smiled before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You know you look really good in that black shirt.” you smirked as he approached you.

“and y’know you look so so good in that dress.” he smirked before separating your crossed legs so he can stand in-between them.

“you’d look even better without it.” he caressed your warm cheeks softly before kneeling down in front of you, letting his hands rest on your exposed thighs.

You looked down at him, the way he stared straight into your eyes made you avert his gaze.

“look at me love.” he ordered with a gentle voice.

You shook your head, too shy to face him.

Jungkook chuckled before grabbing your chin gently turning your head but you closed your eyes before making eye contact.

This time, he laughed making you smiled “open your eyes pretty please don’t be shy."

You opened your eyes “happy?” you mumbled a little pout making its appearance on your lips.

Jungkook placed his hand on your hip as he lowered his head a bit to place a little kiss on your thigh making you shiver at the sudden contact. His lips looked so soft against your skin.

You bit your bottom lip as he started kissing higher pushing your dress up slowly. He hummed satisfied against your skin as you tangled your fingers into his soft hair.

“Jungkook.” you whispered making him lift his head to look at you “kiss me."

“gladly.”

You lowered your body enough to be face to face with him. You put your hand on his cheek before connecting your lips together. His lips were definitively the softest thing on earth. You moaned softly into the kiss as he sucked on your bottom lips gently. He got up not breaking the kiss, making you back up on the bed, laying you down gently before hovering over you.

“you look so pretty like that under me.” he licked his lip admiring your flustered face, placing one of his hand on your waist but he noticed how distracted you were, something else grabbed your attention.

Jungkook tilted his head on the side curiously before finally looking up to the ceiling. There it was..

The infamous mirror ceiling. just. above. the. bed.

“damn.” he whistled rolling on his back next to you.

"that’s a pretty big mirror.” he said before smirking.

You knew he had something not-so-holy in mind, you cursed internally ready to hear what he had to say.

“you know mirrors are so cool.” he started making you sigh.

“and also really useful in many ways. You know what can be cool right now?” he pursed his lips.

You played with your fingers nervously, humming so he could continue.

He turned on his side, placing one hand on your belly before talking again.

“how about I make love to you while you watch us huh? see how pretty you look when you’re under me as I pleasure you. Would you love that, my love?” he whispered into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe making goosebumps raised on your skin, your body heating up at his words making you close your legs as you felt this familiar sensation down there.

Your lips parted, no words ready to escaped from your mouth. Just the thought made your heartbeats picked up the pace, picturing the scene in your head made you feel dizzy. Jungkook smirked at your current state, knowing the effect his words had on you.

“close your mouth, you’re literally drooling honey.” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes. “don’t say non-sense.”

“I guess it’s a yes?” he asked to be sure you were consented. You nodded shyly making him smile at how cute you were.

He sat up on the bed pulling you up with him, his hands finding their places on your sides “can I?” he gestured pulling on the hem of you dress.

“yes.” you answered lifting your arms up so he could easily pull it off of you.

He threw the clothe on the floor, his eyes now wandered on your lace-covered body “so beautiful.” He bit his bottom lip, his pants getting uncomfortably tight as his fingertips were sliding slowly over the lacy bra. You wearing lingerie being one of his weakness and biggest turn on.

You timidly reached up to unbutton his shirt, popping a button one by one slowly.

You got rid of his shirt discarding it on the floor as you kept your eyes on his well built body "you staring“ Jungkook said teasingly.

You closed your eyes embarrassed, not wanting to look at him anymore.

He came closer, you could felt his presence, he was so close. He finally kissed you, his lips envelopping yours into a loving kiss. You placed your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you.

Your husband gently pushed you on your back as he hovered above you, his strong arms on each sides of your head "i love you.” he whispered looking down at you with so much love.

"i love you Jungkook” you caressed his cheek.

He lowered himself, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he started leaving little wet kisses making you turned your head to the side giving him more access. His tattooed hand started cascading down your body, caressing your side as he reached your panties pulling it down your legs.

Making out while undressing each other, you suddenly thought about what he said earlier, making you glance at mirror above you. Your bare bodies coming into your vision making you gulp.

You moaned softly as you felt him pressing against you.

“Jungkook” you whined as he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock.

He kissed you as you pulled him on you, his chest against yours. He placed one your leg over his waist, ruting foward against your core making you moan loudly “stop teasing!”

He rubbed his erection between your glistening lips. “you ready baby?”

You nodded eagerly. He entered you slowly making sure to not hurt you. You threw your head back in the pillows gripping on his shoulders as he bottomed out.

“don’t forget what i told you baby. Look up and watch.” he licked your jawline before sucking softly on the skin leaving loving marks.

You rolled your eyes as the pleasure started consuming you. You tried to look up, the view makimg you clench around him.

“f-fuck baby! do you like what you see? huh? you like the way I take you?” he groaned into your neck.

His grip on your thigh tightened as he adjusted it higher on his hip the new position helping him hit deeper. “you feel so good princess.”

Your nails started forming little crescents on his back as you held him close. The way his back muscles flexed everytime he moved made you weak. 

You arched your back off the bed as he hit deeper “Ah Jungkook! I’m so close!” you cried out.

Jungkook suddenly rolled on his back placing you on top of him “ride me my love."

He looked up at you as he placed his arm behind him to support his head and one hand resting on top of your thigh.

You planted your hands on his chest to keep your balance as you started moving. “fuck yea that’s it! keep going baby!” he moaned deeply.

He looked up at the ceiling smirking, the reflection of you on top of him making him growled “you look so hot like that."

You whimpered as he gripped your hips making you move faster.

“I’m so fucking close!” he bit his bottom lip the flesh turning white as you picked up the pace, your climax getting closer and closer.

His fingernails were digging into your sides as he helped you moving. “I’m coming!” you moaned loudly making Jungkook groaned as you kept on clenching around him pushing him over the edge of his own orgasm.

He came inside you, his warm cum filling you up to the brim, your name sweetly passing by his lips as he closed his eyes shut enjoying your warmth around him.

You let your body collapsed on top of him, burying your head into his neck as you left a soft kiss on the sweaty skin. He caressed your sides before capturing you in a hug “you were so good my love”.

He pulled out as you roll next to him letting one of your leg rest on his thin waist. He laid his hand there, stroking the smooth skin “look at how hot you are” he pointed up to the mirror.

You whined embarrassed, hiding your face onto his sweaty chest. Jungkook’s eyes stayed on your bodies, admiring how you completed each other. He was staring at your figure lovingly.

After a few minutes, he whispered an" i love you“ and kissed your forehead gently realizing that you fell asleep into his arms.

—

A/N : guys, i think it’s definitely one of my fav writings. I mean, I feel like it’s not that bad!! And gosh, I have feelings for Jungkook. I need to marry him! ahah.. thanks for reading ~

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Replacement Therapy

Yandere!Hannibal Lecter x plus size reader

In a desperate attempt to save your marriage, you begin to attend counseling with the famed Doctor Lecter but soon enough, things begin to take a turn. Based on prompt by @queenstarlight2

Warnings: mention of cheating, VERY INAPPROPRIATE RELATIONSHIP, reader has defined married name (let me know if you recognise it), reader is ever so slightly naive and easy to manipulate, insecurity (not explicitly mentioned what they are), murder, blood, little bit of humping and making out, implied smut, nudity

WC: 2.6k

A/N: I'm so sorry if I didn't do this prompt justice!!

Minors DNI

It was embarrassing, truly. Your husband said it was a disgrace too. But here you were, attending marriage counseling alone. There was no one else in the luxurious waiting room and you were grateful for that small reprieve, you don’t think you could have handled any more humiliation today.

Doctor Hannibal Lecter came highly regarded as the best (and most expensive) therapist in the state. So, foolishly, you had signed yourself and your husband of three years up for a session to see if you could fix your marriage. After all, it had been your fault that he cheated on you with his secretary, you were the one that selfishly denied him.

“Mrs Hansen?” You looked up to see a very well dressed older man standing in the doorway. His yellow eyes were fixated on you like a predator watching their prey but it didn’t scare you. You nodded and he shifted so his lean body was side on, gesturing for you to enter his office. Gathering up your coat and purse, you walked in.

The office was really quite lovely, walls covered in books, beautiful leather chairs and an ornate desk made you feel as if you had stepped into someone’s home rather than a psychiatrist’s practice. “Can I take your coat Mrs Hansen?” Dr Lecter stepped closer, offering his large hand to you.

“Um yes, thank you.” Your hands brushed as you gave him the expensive coat Lloyd bought for you. He smiled kindly at you before he turned his back so he could hang the garment up on the rack next to his own. You noted his suit, it was similar to the suits associates of your husband’s wore: expensive, exclusive.

“Take a seat and we can begin.” The smooth leather squeaked against the bare skin of your legs as you sat, the sound filling the otherwise silent office. Your heart dropped to your stomach and you quickly tugged down the hem of your dress over the expanse of your plump thighs. 

The doctor soon found his own seat opposite you. He unbuttoned his suit jacket as he did, taking on a relaxed air, as if he were about to watch television or read a book. It put you immediately at ease. “So tell me, why do you believe you are in need of counseling?” His voice was smooth and rich like an aged whiskey. 

“Well, recently, my husband and I have been going through a rough patch and I thought-“ You started, nervously playing with the gaudy wedding ring on your finger when Doctor Lecter stopped you.

“I asked why you needed counseling, not your husband. I do not doubt that he is in need of it but I make it a habit not to diagnose in absentia. So Mrs Hansen, I ask again; why do you need help?” The silence was deafening as his words sunk in. When was the last time someone offered to help? You were lost in your own mind, the questions consuming you.

But the doctor was patient, simply letting you experience your thoughts without any interruption. Too lost in your spiraling mind, you didn’t see how his eyes trailed down the length of your plump body, taking in each and every detail like you were some rare and beautiful creature. “I-I don’t know Doctor Lecter. I feel like I can’t be fixed but maybe my marriage can.”

“And why is it so important that you fix the marriage that is obviously making you unhappy?” Your head shot up with such a force your neck clicked.

“I’m not unhappy, I love my husband.” He tsked and leaned back in his seat, crossing one long leg over the other.

“Now now Mrs Hansen, I don’t tolerate liars in this office. I respect you enough to tell you to tell the truth and I expect the same respect from you.” You felt like a scolded child under the scrutinizing gaze of a parent. 

You didn’t realise you were crying until the tears fell onto your folded hands, rolling down onto your dress. “I love my husband.” You emphasised half-heartedly. Your voice thickened as more tears welled up, making your vision swim.

“And I do not doubt that my dear. But those we love can make us unhappy. And it is in your best interest to recognise that.” A box of tissues appeared before you, you took the whole thing. “How about we start at what makes you happy, do you have any hobbies?”

——————

Your sessions with Doctor Lecter, Hannibal as he insisted you call him, were the highlight of your week. Everything was getting better! Lloyd had even stopped pestering you about it, just sending you out the door with his black card to pay for it.

Hannibal had been wonderful, he helped you rediscover old passions and find new ones to keep your mind occupied during the day since Lloyd insisted you become a housewife after you were married. You felt lighter and truly happier. 

But the only downside to this whole thing was your unfortunate crush on the older man. Who could blame you? He was sauve and sophisticated but not condescending. He was kind but not a roll over. He was handsome but not unobtainable. He knew your soul better than Lloyd, he always seemed to know what you needed, whether it be a shoulder to cry on or someone to laugh with you. He recommended wines and getaways, museums and art galleries, he had even picked out a new perfume for you that had made your husband go absolutely feral for you.

A part of you wished you had met the doctor before Lloyd. You often wondered what your life would have been like if he was the one that swept you off your feet first. 

“How have you been this week? Have you been journalling like I asked you to?” You nodded, a large smile on your face. You pulled the beautiful leather-bound journal from your bag and handed it over to the good doctor without hesitation.

“Yep! Just like you told me to! One entry in the morning as soon as I get up and one at night right before I go to bed.” Hannibal winked at you from over his glasses.

“Very good girl." He purred before opening the book and beginning to read. It had been a strange request, to write down all your thoughts and actions through the day, including, well more like emphasising anything sexual that happened, especially if you pleasured yourself. But you trusted Hannibal and knew that he would do whatever was best for you.

“I see you and Mr Hansen had intercourse this week.” Your breath caught in your throat at his tone and the sudden frown marring his perfect face. Shamefully, you looked down at your lap.

“Yes we did.”

“But you write that you didn’t enjoy it. Can you tell me why?” Because I was thinking about you the whole time and what you would feel like inside of me instead of him. But you couldn’t say that to your therapist.

So you just shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t in the mood.” But like all lies you told him, Hannibal saw right through it, although, this time, he didn’t make any comment.

“I hope you were able to take care of yourself after then, I would hate to think that he left you feeling vulnerable and unsafe.” You most certainly had. A quick trip to the bathroom after he fell asleep with your waterproof vibrator and a tub full of hot soapy water and fixed the ache between your thighs. Especially when you called out Hannibal’s name when you climaxed.

“I took a hot bath and drank a glass of that red wine you recommended last week.” He nodded approvingly, the smile returning to his lips as he placed the book on the side table next to him. His legs spread slightly and you could not help but sneak a quick glance at the sizeable bulge hidden by his navy pinstripe pants.

Your eyes snapped back up to his own as he began to speak again. “Now this is a strange question but I find it useful to ask my patients this sometimes. How many times do you think you have had sex with your husband?” 

“What?” You breathed, legitimately shocked by the question. How could he even ask that? But like he could read your mind, Hannibal explained himself.

“I only ask because to a woman such as yourself who values intimacy and physical connection, sex is a very important and healthy part of a relationship. Knowing how often you and Mr Hansen engaged in such acts, and by focusing on how often it used to occur versus now can give me a better idea as to the state of your marriage.” 

Sceptically, you withdrew slightly, thinking about the many times you had been intimate with Lloyd. It hurt to reminisce on the times before your marriage when he was your whole world and you were his. When did it change? Or was it ever like that? “We dated for three months before we got married. We used to have sex at least twice a day. And then on the honeymoon it was pretty much a 12 hour affair every day. But about a month after we got back, the sex stopped. Since then it’s maybe been 10 or 20 times.” Hannibal slumped forward, his scruffy chin coming to rest on his intertwined fingers as he did the math in his head. 

“It isn’t unusual for couples to stop being intimate but it is certainly questionable for the sex to stop so quickly after it frequently occurred. Is there any reason you believe this has happened?” And like you couldn’t stop it, you started spilling your deepest and darkest secrets to him, just like all the times before.

——————

Fridays were reserved for Hannibal, you made that very clear to your life partner and apparently, he had taken full advantage of that. You stared at his computer in complete disbelief. There were thousands of messages from hundreds of women, each detailing the dirty and almost borderline illegal acts he committed with them.

You hadn’t meant to snoop, only wanting to find your mother’s pie recipe to give to Hannibal for today’s session but the logs were right there! Like he wanted you to find them. In a haze, you printed out as many of the chats as you could and stuffed them into your purse.

“Hmm.” Hannibal hummed as he looked over the various sheets of paper. His face remained neutral but inside he was seething. You had already confided in him about your husband's past ‘indiscretions’ and your insecurity about pleasing him sexually. “I won’t ask you how you feel about these chats because that would be unhelpful so instead I’m going to ask about what you wish to do about it.”

You had his undivided attention, his amber eyes locked on you as he awaited your decision. “I want to leave him.” Hannibal’s shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly. “B-but I can’t afford the divorce. All of our money is his.” 

Slipping from his seat, he knelt before you as if in worship. Your legs squeezed together, both to sate your arousal from his close proximity and to prevent him catching sight of your soaked panties. “You needn’t worry my flower, I have more than enough money to buy your freedom.” 

“I can’t let you do that Hannibal. You’ve done so much for me already and I’ll forever be grateful but this is something I need to do on my own.” His eyes grew softer, filled with swirling emotion. Palms skated up your leg, cupping the side of your knee in a grip far too tight to be friendly.

The doctor was close enough now you could study the details of his face far more than you ever could before.  Your gaze followed the lines of his wrinkles, going from the crows feet by his eyes to the smile lines on his cheeks. Then to his lips. “I would do anything for you, my flower, you never have to ask.” Slowly, his hands moved higher and his lean body closer. His broad shoulders forced your legs apart so he could rest between them. “If I cannot give you financial support, let me offer you my home, at least until you are on your own two feet.”

You could not speak, too lost in the idea of surging forward and finally kissing him. “Ok.” You murmured, conceding to his wishes. 

“Wonderful. Then how about we wrap up this session early so we can get you home and fed.” You whined low in your throat as he slipped away but thankfully, he didn’t hear you. He helped you to your feet and then turned to fetch your coats

“Whatever you want, Doctor.” You said jokingly. He laughed but you missed the truly wicked grin spreading over his face. Oh yes, whatever he wants indeed.

——————

You were truly beautiful when you slept. It was like all of your worries and stresses washed away, leaving you almost fae-like in appearance. Hannibal had lost count of the amount of times he had snuck into your home to catch a glimpse of your resting form. He had drawn you each time, and each time, he took something of yours. A lock of your hair, a piece of jewelry, even several panties from your hamper., things you wouldn’t really notice if they went missing.

But now, you were here, in his home and in his bed. You were his.

He had hoped that you would have come to your senses months ago and realised that he would be a better lover than this worm of a man could ever be. But it seems that you needed a bit more of a push to fall into his arms. 

The messages had been easy to fake. He knew you wanted a hero to come and save you from your husband, the chats had been the perfect excuse to come to him. 

You shifted in your sleep and the dark sheets pooled around your wide hips, exposing the way his own shirt stretched across your large body. He could even see how your nipples pebbled in the chilly air of the room. “Absolutely divine.” He could not help himself.

As quietly as he could, Hannibal slipped into the bed beside you, not caring that he was staining the bedding with the still wet blood that covered his naked skin. Your legs fell open easily, allowing him to crawl up your body, taking his rightful place above you.

Red began to seep through your white shirt, blooming like a flower. “My beautiful, perfect flower.” He nosed along your pulse point, inhaling your alluring scent like he needed it to live. You were so soft and warm, he had no doubt you would be absolutely delectable but he was far far too selfish to let you go.

His hips nudged into your own, unable to keep himself from seeking out the warmth of your core. “H-Hannibal?” Your eyes were barely open but they were dark with lust, almost as if you had been expecting him like this.

“I am sorry to have woken you my flower but you were far too alluring for me to just walk away.” He returned to your neck, now licking at your slightly salty skin. 

“Oh fuck.” You moaned, your hips canting upwards, bumping into his cock. You wrapped your arms around his muscular back, encouraging him to continue his ministrations. “Is this a dream?”

Hannibal planted his forearm by your head so he could guide your shapely leg over his waist. “If it is, I hope we never wake because I have lots I must do with you.” Your fingers tangled in his silvery hair, overcome with electricity in your veins.

“You have slept with your idiotic husband almost 400 times and I must scrub away his touch from your heavenly body.” 

“Should we get started then?” You asked coyly and Hannibal couldn’t help but oblige you.

Prompt: Imagine yandere Hannibal asking how often you and your husband have had sex during a therapy session, saying it might be making you unhappy. When the reason he asked was that he wanted to know how many times he was going to have to fuck you to make you forget about your husband

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[97keanu]

hey! you could write with john wick coming home to find his wife in the garden with the "garden boy" who clearly likes her but she doesn't realize it. i imagine john being subtle and quiet with his jealousies, nothing too scandalous but serious and direct. fluffly, please and thank you so much 🩷

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳I loved this idea so much! I hope you like it, feel free to ask for any expanding drabbles of these two <3

Jealous!John Wick x Naive!Reader

Tags: john is jealous, reader is naive about his jealousies, gardener def has a crush but would rather quit than act on it with john always around, age gap mention, lower class reader in a rich world, possessive john, protective john, primal john

Summer was dying, August dragging out the heat of July, telling the world it was unready to leave just yet. And you, well, you were enjoying the last of the long days, the time when sunset went on for ages, and burned in the sky a blazing orange over your backyard. You always loved the sun, how it turned everything golden each evening, and how it kissed your skin with its heat. 

You were barely breaking a sweat, laying out by the pool while the gardener worked on the bushes. He was young. More around your age than your husband John. Which was nice sometimes, when you got to converse with him, both because of his age, and like you he wasn't from a wealthy background. It kept you a bit more grounded while the life of luxury continued on around you, it was nice to confide in him. 

Unfortunately, what you never noticed was the gardeners wandering eyes. Even now, as you lay out in your bikini, eyes closed and skin happy to drink up the suns rays, he can't help but to watch you. If you asked the gardener about it, he would never admit to his little crush on you. As much as that would be unprofessional of him, he also has no interest in messing with his employer, John Wick. There were rumors, you know, about John coming home, bruised and bloody, a painting of struggle on his skin, the smell of gunpowder on his suit. The gardner has even caught a glimpse before, and watched as you greet your husband as a source of safety and comfort. No one asked why it was that John came home in such a state, but everyone knew, and because of that, the gardener would never pursue you. He would remain a healthy confidant, easing your worries in the world of the rich, and letting you keep in touch with the world outside the private neighborhood. 

The gardener still steals a look or two while he thinks he can get away with it. His headphones buzz with music, drowning out the weed whacker as well as much of his own thoughts. He idly appreciated your body and your beauty from afar, before his stomach drops. He felt for only a moment that he was the one being watched now, and when his eyes flicker up, he meets a set of dark, dangerous eyes. John has entered the backyard, likely in search of his wife, who is currently enjoying the last days of summer. The most frightening part is how close he is, the gardner had no idea that John had snuck up behind him, and now he feels the trail of sweat down his back running cold.

Instead of finding his wife, John sees this man, who he pays handsomely to do work John has no time for, drooling over his wife. The gardener quickly looks away, trying to be busy with work, but the feeling of John's gaze never leaves his back. He starts to feel sweaty for reasons besides the burning August heat, and does everything he can to stop from looking over his back once more. There was just something about John that scared him to his core, and he felt he should trust that feeling if he were to survive. 

Unfortunately for the gardener, John isn't finished. He feels John remove one of his ear buds, the man now so close he can smell John's expensive taste in cologne. 

"I don't pay you to eye fuck my wife." John growls out, assertive and serious. 

"N-no, of course not, Mr. Wick…" The gardener quickly tries to find his way out of this mess, John's cold eyes are enough to scare him away from looking at you for a good long while. 

"Good. I suggest you go home for the night." John maintains professionalism always, but the thoughts running through his head tell a different story. The gardener can practically see these thoughts and takes John's suggestion, quickly moving away to pack up. 

Meanwhile, you don't even know this interaction has happened, eyes closed lightly, sunglasses blocking out the sun. It isn't until John's lips kiss and whisper against your cheek, that you realize your husband is home for the day. Your eyelids flutter open, happy to see his dark form against the dulling blue sky. He looks at you with a small fire in his eyes, and you have no idea he is trying to show off while he continues to kiss down your neck. 

He's halfway to your breast, maybe more,  when you glimpse the gardener beginning to pack up in a haste, and gently pull John away, for modesty if anything. You notice the gardener refuses to look in your direction and wonder why.

"John, wait…" You say softly, and John let's out a small noise of annoyance that his lips must be pulled from your soft skin. 

"What's wrong?" His voice is low, gruff. 

"Let's wait until…" Your eyes finish your sentence, looking towards the gardener once more. John scoffs when he sees where your gaze is going. 

"What? I'm not allowed to lay claim to you in front of the staff?" He says, almost arrogantly. You aren't exactly surprised, John has always been protective, if not possessive. You don't mind it much, in fact sometimes it even turned you on how primal he could be about it. But you also thought you had tamed his jealousy regarding the gardener months ago. 

"You don't have to claim me, John, I'm already yours…" You say with a smirk, kissing right under his well kept beard. John seems to be calmed for the moment by your words, and while he enjoys your kiss, the gardner slips away for the night, safe once again for now. 

John's eyes open when your lips leave his neck, and he looks down at you, perplexed. 

"Why'd you stop…?" He breathes out, voice already dripping, husky with want. You smirk, and stand from where you were sun tanning, taking his hand and pulling him to the house. 

[my-cherie]

𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗠𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪♡

pairing ꒱modern! step-dad! pantalone x male reader warnings ꒱ step relationships (though reader doesn't know it), cheating on pantalone's part, a few pet names (darling, sweetness, pet), grinding, dirty talk, praise. wc ꒱ 600+ thoughts ꒱ small genshin drabble bc pantalone doesn't get nearly as much appreciation as he deserves, this man is HOT, y'all. inspired by the abba song with the same name. NOT BETA READ.

You hadn’t seen your mom in a long time. Ever since you moved away for college she barely contacted you, so to say you were baffled when her wedding invite came in would be the century’s understatement. Putting on your best suit, you messed with your hair a little more and tried your best to straighten your tie, before giving up and just deciding to go like this. Not like you were trying to impress anyone.

While you were on the way to the ceremony, you checked the invite again. This was maybe your mom’s third husband ever since your dad left? You weren’t sure, but maybe this “Pantalone” (as you came to know his name from the invite) would be nicer than your other step-fathers.

… The place was fancy. You almost wish you hadn’t come, because the venue in itself already seemed straight out of an expensive magazine, with the full-on white decorations, roses and tulips and baby’s breath everywhere and a ton of seats in the middle of a cute, meadow-like wedding venue and now you were sure that this Pantalone guy was at least filthy rich, because your family sure as hell didn’t have the money for this place, even with the money your mom managed to get from her past failed relationships.

You stumble amidst all the guests, making small talk with some cousins, aunts and uncles, before finally settling into the back of the garden, nursing a glass of white wine that you were sure cost more than your apartment. Trying to look for anyone else you knew besides the few relatives you had talked to, you were disappointed to see only strangers. 

Fuck, was your mom gonna take too long to come out? 

“Hello,” you startled, who— “do you mind if I wait here as well?

Oh, that’s a very pretty man.

He’s wearing probably the most expensive suit you’ve ever seen, with a beautiful blue tie, silver glasses and— Is that a fucking Armani suit?

“Sure dude, uh,” you shift under his attention, distractedly biting the inside of your mouth, scrambling for a common topic you could talk to this stranger about, “do you know the groom?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” He chuckles in amusement and you realize suddenly that he seemed a bit... bored. He was just observing everyone and not moving to greet any of the people in the venue, even though you can see that quite a few people seemed to wave and smile at him.

The unknown man seemed to not want to socialize with anyone else, besides you, that is.

You mess with your tie again, trying to distract yourself from the beautiful, beautiful man besides you. Your tie just never seems to sit correctly on your suits, no matter how many times you've watched those tutorials on Youtube about how to do the perfect tie.

“Do you need some help there?” The man — fuck you forgot to ask his name — asks, clearly seeing you struggle.

“Please, if you could.” You smile at him, embarrassed.

He comes closer, slowly redoing your tie for you, and you stare at his face meanwhile. 

Without meaning to, your eyes are attracted to his lips and you bite your own again, thinking about how they look very much kissable. When you look up, he’s already looking directly at you, a smirk playing at his lips and his eyes muddled with arousal.

So you weren’t the only one to feel the pull of attraction between you two then, good. You weren’t even enjoying the wedding anyway.

(The man kisses hard, you dimly register, your body hidden away from view by the way he’s holding you, kissing you breathless.

His knees are slowly grinding your dick and fuck if it doesn’t feel good, making you moan each time he does it, holding his hair tighter.

“Do you like it like that, darling? Does it feel good?” He talks dirty like he’s made for it and when you don’t answer, he pulls away the tiniest bit. “Answer me.” 

And you have to gasp for breath, he has already made you into such a mess in a few seconds, it’s humiliating, but not enough for you to not beg him.

“Yes! Yes, it feels amazing! Please, please—“ You don’t know his name, god damn it all. He seems to notice your predicament, because he snickers a bit.

“The name’s Pantalone, sweetness.”

You give him your name as well, completely forgetting that your mom’s soon-to-be-husband has the same name as the stranger ravaging you. Even though it’s a very clearly unique name, your brain has been completely taken by his ministrations, hazy and distracted.

“Cute,” he says, before going back to kissing you to oblivion and starting to grind against your cock with his own, clearly hard and wanting to continue just as much. 

“I’m going to enjoy ruining you, pet.”)

[ystrike1]

Romance is Dead - By Alice (7/10)

The most beautiful woman in the land. Sensual scandal after sensual scandal. Her fiance could take it no more. He truly loved his cheating fiance, so he tormented her. He demanded reparations for their annulled wedding expenses. Her family disowned her. Five years pass, and yes, Romance is Dead.

This is a story about obsession, but it focuses on female friendships and the reality of romance more.

Luce Granzia and Felix were a fairy tale love story. A woman from a lower family, and one of the highest men. They were deeply in love. His love was going to give her power just under the royal family. She was smart, classy, and pretty.

Then Felix saw the letters. His beautiful fiance has been sleeping with every rich man in court. These men are willing to testify. Thirty or more claim to have slept with her. The letters are in her handwriting. The rumors are explosive.

Felix completely shuts down. He takes his revenge. He hires the best lawyer. He doesn't want her in jail. No. Felix wants her to pay back every penny. Every gift. Every dress. Every flower at their wedding venue. She has to pay it all back. Her family has to pay it all back.

Her family dumps her quickly, so they don't get stuck with the bill.

5 years pass.

Luce covers her face. She dresses plainly. She works at a research center, because she was always smart. Before she got married she got many job offers. She took on a tough job to pay back her dowry debt.

Her new best friend is Sasha.

He knows everything about her.

Did Sasha write those letters?

No.

He followed her out of the capital. He's obsessed with her. She's his first love. He has dedicated five years to clearing her name. He's not a nice guy, but the real culprit is obvious.

Felix was from a rich family. It was clear from the start that his relatives were behind the scandal. Only a family with a ton of money could have pulled it off.

Sasha blames himself, because he secretly has royal blood. He could have saved Luce Granzia. He could have done it easily. He wanted to save his first and only love, but he didn't. The culprit behind the scandal threatened to expose his secret identity. He had to put his duty to the royal family before Luce.

It's nuts but he pretended to be a commoner for 5 years just so he could stay by her side, befriend her, and comfort her.

There are plenty of sympathetic and aspirational female characters in this one.....but they have nothing to do????

This is Leonie. Felix's new fiance.

Leonie defends Luce. She can see Felix's madness, and she's only marrying him out of convenience. Leonie knows Felix is disgusted by women and love now, after Luce betrayed him. It doesn't matter to her. She loves her 8 cats more than she will ever love her husband.

She befriends Luce.

Luce is called to the royal capital by the prince, to finally have her name cleared.

It's all a long game plot from Sasha's head. He practically forces his family to step in and help Luce, after he uses other means to confirm her innocence.

She's not some evil harlot. Felix was blinded by rage. His greedy relatives were behind it all.

Sadly the cool female characters we meet are never part of the main plot. It feels like a waste...and the romance starts to feel like an afterthought too.

More friends come back into the picture. Some people aren't nice. Some people come back to support Luce too late. Some have grown up and found the confidence to finally support their old friend.

The real high point of the story is a crowd of women in puffy petticoats. They cancel their tea party as soon as Luce arrives, and they storm the evidence lab! Demanding to see the evidence about Luce's case. Some of the women are just curious, but most of them want to see her name cleared. A couple of women, who believed the rumors, properly apologize when the truth comes out.

It's all very heartwarming and realistic.

Felix tells Luce everything. He started drinking during her trial. He hasn't felt truly attracted to a woman since she left. His fiance is nothing to him. He secretly asked for updates about her, while she was working in the lab. He threw himself into his work, because the joy had been sucked out of his daily life.

He never slept.

He had nightmares.

It's not enough.

Luce tells him the harsh truth.

She suffered way more than he did, and he never even tried to visit her. His thoughts and prayers do not matter, and she has made a new life.

She's in love with Sasha now, but she doesn't know he's part of the royal family. She doesn't know he could have chosen to save her all those years ago.

Romance is Dead for Sasha too. It seems like he intendes to live as a servant of the royal family, because he was an unwanted child??? As payment for them helping Luce. He feels too guilty to be by her side as well....because he did manipulate her.

Sasha was the one who reopened her case. After she paid her debt he didn't let her move on with her life, because he was so obsessed with reclaiming her lost honor.

He could have let her be happy, with him, but he feels too guilty to accept her love.

This is a very bitter story. Sometimes, obsession makes the object of your love feel very far away. Not human. More ideal than person.

Luce just wanted to marry and be happy, but because of her status as The Most Beautiful her youth was plunged into misery.

The men who adore her aren't even interested in her happiness. They just want her to be pure and well-respected. Which she deserves! She absolutely deserves her place in high society. She never cheated on her fiance, but she could have been happy. She could have moved on, but Sasha would not allow it.

[abibliophobiaa]

Beyond — s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Eleven: The End of All the Endings

summary: all things come to the light eventually (5k words).

warnings: 18+. oral, m receiving; p in v sex; alcohol consumption; unwarranted aggressive touch from another person.

modern day! rich! fake husband! steve harrington

masterlist

——

  It’s easy to feel like a beautiful, powerful being when you quite literally stand in front of the mirrored elevator donning a shimmering midnight colored dress that shifts with every step, red bottom heels beneath clicking with your pacing movements. Around your neck, you wear a diamond necklace, the same very one Steve slipped around your neck that morning and whispered would be the only thing you wore when he fucked you later. 

Heat dances to life in your belly at the memory, disrupted by the ding of the elevator, revealing the handsome appearance of your husband in a too expensive suit and bow tie standing there at the entrance. He’s been at the office all day, wanting to make sure the final pieces of the New Years Eve party were set into place. Had told him to let the party planners handle it, but seeing as it was also a charity event, he wanted everything to be perfect. 

He greets you with a kiss, bent elbow there for you to slide your hand into, shoulder bumping against his. There’s a giddy spring in your step, a delighted burning behind your ribcage that has you asking him where his office is, having never been there to visit him. 

“My office?” he asks, not quite understanding, but leading you down a separate hall all the same. 

The building is all sprawling gray walls, glass cubicles, black desks. A conference room that looks more like an auditorium than anything else, a fully stocked cafeteria and countless other rooms he doesn’t get to name as you’re suddenly swept toward a door that has his name plate affixed to it.

“Mr. Steve Harrington,” you murmur to yourself with a grin, smirking up at your husband as he leans down to push the handle and allow you in. 

Inside, you’re met with a large mahogany desk set against a wall with a sprawling bookshelf that spans one wall to the other. Against the opposite wall he has other shelves, boasting plants and photos that you’ve seen before because some of which are the same you have back at home. 

Your wedding photos, with the two of you looking so happy for two people who barely knew one another at the time. Your fingers brush along the frames, over the sight of him with his hand around your waist, your veil draped over both your heads, foreheads pressed together. The next is another photo from the ceremony. Him, sliding up a ring onto your finger, saying those final, fateful words. 

“You looked so beautiful that day,” he muses, coming up behind you, arms curling around your waist and pulling your back against his chest. He kisses your shoulder, your neck. “You look stunning today, too, Mrs. Harrington.” 

Turning around, you give him a swift kiss and curl your palm around his, dragging him over to his desk. You plop him down in his office chair and notice the photo settled on his desk, set in a dark frame. It’s a newer photo from the holidays. Of you, Charlie and Steve. Your little family finally together, with wide smiles and full hearts. 

“I love this one,” you whisper, settling down on his knee. 

“I love you,” he breathes out, smiling into your searing kiss. 

It’s meant to be innocent. A soft brush of your mouth against his. But being here, in this office with this man, has heat ratcheting in your belly. Desire thrumming, you shift on his lap, hip against his stomach, fingers inching up along the column of his throat, mouth brushing over the hollow of his ear until he shudders beneath you. 

“I want to try something,” you say, sliding down off of his lap, knees resting against the carpet below. “Been dreaming of it.” 

“What are y —”

“Shhh.” 

He leans back into his chair with hooded eyes and a shaky exhale, watching your fingers glide up along his thighs, pausing at the button of his pants, palm smoothed along the hardened ridge of his cock outlined beneath, straining desperately against the fabric. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes out as you undo the button and shuck his pants down, freeing him from the confines, thumb gliding over the tip already glistening with pre-cum. “Honey honey honey.” 

Delight curls low in your cunt as his head tips back as you take him into your mouth, too eager to waste any time teasing him further. His curses spur you on, taking him halfway into your mouth, trying to relax your muscles and take him deeper, palm curling around the rest of him and setting a pace that has his fingers clutching against the leather armrests. 

The rasps of your name on his lips and the breathless sighs of him start to fill the room as you start to bob your head, wetness pooling between your thighs that rub together as his hips shift against leather, aroused knowing you’re the one pulling these beautiful sounds from him — you’re the one reducing him to incoherent babble, praises of your mouth, utterances of his love.  

“Oh fuck —” He glances down, your eyes on his face as you smile around his cock, his thumb pressing to the corner of your lips. “Look so pretty like this. Touch yourself, baby. Play with your clit. Wanna watch you.” 

You’re humming around him as you touch yourself. Fingers dip into the well of slick between your thighs, dragging up to your clit, rubbing along it in a way that has Steve’s hand falling to the back of your head, not hindering your pace on his cock, only tethering himself to reality. Craving that nearness as the veins in his neck strain against skin, hips fighting to not thrust up into your throat. 

“Waitwaitwait —” His voice comes out in a rush, your head popping off of him with a loud pop, fingers still rubbing against your clit, needing friction. “I want to be inside you when I come. Get on the desk.”

“What?” 

“On.” He kisses your brow. “The.” A kiss presses against the corner of your mouth. “Desk.” The last is against the shell of your ear, nipples pebbling beneath the slinky material of your dress at the unbridled desire imbuing his tone. “You’re not the only one who’s been dreaming. Know how many times I’ve thought about fucking you right here on my desk?”

He noses along your jaw, down the curve of your shoulder. Slides the shoulder of your gown down just a bit to lay a little nip into the skin there, settling into the cradle of your hips. Ringed fingers move down to push your dress up higher on your hips, fingers pushing your underwear to the side and trailing through your already slick center. 

Your lungs practically fail you as Steve grips himself in hand and tugs you closer to the edge of the desk, sliding into the hilt in a long thrust. Nothing ever prepares you for that initial stretch — the feeling of being so full of him you might explode, heart hammering away like a tattoo against his ribcage. 

“So pretty,” he rasps, setting a brutal pace, fingers clutched tight around the fleshiest parts of your hips, “God you feel so good. Always so good for me.”

It’s a dirty, frantic thing. A push and pull of hips. A furious rush to a finish line you can’t see, and yet flashes behind your eyes. Beneath you, the desk rattles. Shakes with each hard thrust of Steve’s hips against yours. Papers flutter in the air. Pens come crashing to the floor beneath. Your fingers clutch tight in his shirt, his body bowing over yours and knocking you backward so he can cradle your head with his elbows. Your thighs curl around his hips, hoarse cries and whimpers spilling freely, uncaring of those who might hear, as he picks up his pace. 

It’s perfectly obscene. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you. His ragged pants. Your peals of his name. The echo of his desk screeching against the floor. His fingers grip your thigh tight, opening you further, rolling into you with abandon. And you’re screaming — crying his name into the open room as the rubber band snaps and heat lights your body awash in flame. It dances behind your eyes, rattles your bones as you tremble around him, your fingers sliding behind his head to tangle with his hair, dragging him down for a sloppy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, his hips falling out of motion as you swallow his own moans as he comes. 

You lay like that for a while. His chest rising and falling against yours, your forehead in the crook of his neck, his hands on your waist and hips. Your dress still sits high on your thighs, he’s still resting on you and within you, your thighs tremble, but all you feel is the glow of love for him. The steady beat of it that lingers behind your ribcage at all times now. 

You murmur it on a breath, his head lifting a bit to take in your features. And then once more. A whisper of, “I love you, Steve.”

He knows this. He’s heard it countless times since you’ve both said it for the first time. But that smile — that amazing smile that slides over his features will make it worth it every time. Like he’s hearing it all over again. Like he still can’t believe it, like he’s still basking in the revelation that as much as you are his, he is yours. Your person, his person, his family.  

“I love you,” he breathes back, brushing his lips over yours and murmuring quickly for you to lay still so he can run into his adjoining office bathroom to clean you up. 

He tends to you in silence. In little brushes along the insides of your thighs, along your hips where he tuts at the marks already forming on your skin, ones you welcome happily and will wear for days with the memory of being loved so well by Steve Harrington. 

Your own fingers rise up to help Steve tuck his shirt back pristinely into his pants. And his gentle palms slide your dress into place, moving down to run along your calves and give them a quick squeeze, before holding a palm out for you to take. You rise to your feet on shaky limbs, leaning into his body for a moment as the wobbly feeling in your thighs subsides. 

“Ready to go?” he asks, offering you the crook of his elbow. You slide your arm through his, looping him in close, just as he should be — as he always should be. “If I get pulled away by clients, please make sure you find me by midnight.”

“Wanna kiss me or something, Harrington?” you tease, but your heart still bubbles with joy at the prospect of ringing in the new year with your favorite person and love of your life, all wrapped in one. 

“One of many New Year’s kisses to come,” he says with a laugh, brushing his mouth against your forehead as he closes the office door behind the both of you. He leads you back down the hall you came, the click of your heels and slap of his Prada hitting the pristine floors, echoing. “I am a man of tradition.” 

“Can we make what we did back there a tradition too? I suddenly am a big fan of family traditions.” 

You’re only joking. Trying to get a rise out of the man — make his cheeks glow red like they always do when you crack an inappropriate joke his way. Something salacious that always seems to ruffle his feathers. Your businessman husband, always so serious. Except now. Now there’s a wicked gleam in his eye at your words, and you know it’s a promise. 

  ——

  In actuality, you lose Steve in the ebb and flow of the crowd early on. As you initially entered the party, your breath hitched at the sight of the place. The rooftop of your husband’s business has been turned into the winter wonderland of everyone’s dreams, only heaters are appropriately placed so it doesn’t quite feel like one in the dead of winter in the city. 

Everything is awash in a lovely blue hue. White furniture has been placed pristinely around tables with golden accented centerpieces, with frostbitten edges. All around you, women and men are dressed to the nines. Gorgeous gowns and designer heels, jewelry with insurance policies attached to them, men in perfectly tailored suits, cufflinks encrusted in gemstones boasting their last names, proof of their elitism above all others. 

Up here, you once again feel out of place. Like so long ago now, on that night Steve had pulled you away for a game of pool. You’d felt it then. This feeling that you were merely Cinderella. Not invited to the party, garbed in a too-fancy ball gown that wasn’t your own, ready to lose one of your Louis Vuittons at the door. 

“And that’s when I said, sweetheart, I would love a third vacation home,” the woman in front of you prattles on, telling you a story that you’ve barely followed for the better part of a half hour, head glancing over her shoulder to where Steve stands near the bar with some expensively dressed clientele of his. “So we are now looking for a place in the Hamptons. We would love it if you and your husband would come by sometime.” 

“That sounds lovely, Linda,” you tell her, offering her a pitying smile. 

From what Steve has told you, her husband is on thin ice with the company as of late. Always showing up late, handing in deliverables late — simply late. But you don’t tell her maybe her husband shouldn’t invest in that new property, as it’s not really your place. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Cami rushing over to the bathroom, and your heart thunders wildly in your chest at the opportunity to escape the increasingly uncomfortable room tightening around you. 

“Oh — I’m so sorry. It was wonderful chatting with you. I need to go help my friend with something. Please excuse me.” It comes out in a breathy rush, Cami’s long head of red curls slipping further and further from view. 

“That is no worry at all, Mrs. Harrington. I’m sure we will see each other very soon at another one of these functions.” 

You want to tell her no, no you won’t but you refrain, hiking up the bottom of your gown in one hand and rushing off behind Cami in the next instant. She’s there, in front of the mirror, when you find her. A beautiful green dress that clings to her every curve. Lovely and dominant — just as she has been every time you’ve seen her. Only this time you notice the rims of her green eyes are tinged red. Like she’s been crying. 

She wipes a tissue along the bottom of her nose and sniffles, just as her head lifts and she catches your reflection in the mirror. A pitiful, watery laugh spills from her as she waves you closer, body turning toward yours once you’re beside her, her arms looping loosely around your shoulders. And then she’s crying. Not softly — full on sobs that wrack her form and have your palms sliding up to press against her back, rubbing up and down like you do for Steve before he sleeps some nights. 

“He’s cheating again,” she whimpers. And your heart breaks over the word again. You recall those memories of your initial meeting with her. How she seemed so sad when she admired your photos, claiming you’d gotten the ‘good Harrington.’ “He thinks I’m an idiot, but it’s not hard to put two and two together when he upgraded my engagement ring. Last time, he bought me diamond earrings.”

“Cami…” 

“I thought he was done,” she cries, palm wiping at her face from over your shoulder. “But he’d been working late and missing the kid’s events and I — I should have figured it out. I went through his phone.” Within your gut, your stomach drops. 

“It’s been going on for months,” she continues, sniffling loudly. “He’s been fucking her for months. His last business trip…there was no business trip. He’d gone away to Miami with her. I found the hotel booking. Two people, single bed. Fuck — how can I be so stupid?”

“You’re not stupid, Cami. He’s an asshole,” you tell her, pulling back a bit to cup her face within your palms. “Him. He’s the asshole. You have a beautiful family together and he’s taken advantage of that. What are you going to do?” 

You want to tell her to leave him. To hang his ass out to try for all he’s worth. To make him regret every choice he’s made toward his wife who quite literally radiates sunshine. And yet — you know you can’t. Can’t tether that line of friendship. Ultimately, it’s her choice. You can try and make her see the light, to make her understand what you’ve seen from the moment you met the man, but you also understand there are years of history between them. Two children between them. 

“After the holiday, he booked us a trip. He wants to work on our marriage. Apparently he got another raise and wants to spoil me.” She brushes beneath her eyes, trying to fix the mascara lines along her lower lashes. “He’d probably booked it right after I found out. So tonight we’ll put on appearances, I’ll be the perfect wife like he expects, we’ll go on our vacation…and then I plan on staying with my family for a while. I’ll take the kids with me.”

“Good,” you whisper, reaching around her to grab a tissue. Pressing it beneath her eyes to collect her tears, you add, “Steve and I are here for whatever you need. In any capacity. Even if you just want to text me.”

“Thank you.” She swipes at her face, turning to the mirror to pinch at her cheeks and bring some color back to her pale, freckled skin. “We should get back out there…before people notice we’ve been gone long.”

“Hey, Cami?” She pauses at the door as you call out her name, offering the barest of smiles. “It’s gonna be okay, you know?”

She presses her lips together. A tense line, cheeks and eyes still flushed from her crying. “Thank you. Really.”

“We’re family, right?” you offer her a little weakly.

“Right.” 

She nods, holding out a hand that you take to offer her strength and comfort as you slip back out into the main party area. There are no words. None that come to your mind, at least, to quell Cami’s heartbreak. To ease the sting of her husband’s infidelity. But there is anger — anger that burns and grows as he appears in your line of sight, taller than most of the crowd surrounding him, taking in the two of you as you slip back into the crowd. 

Breaking away from his conversation, he rushes forward, mouth open to speak to his wife, but she cuts him off with a simple, “I’m going to grab another glass of champagne.” She glances your way, pleadingly, “Will you come wi —”

“Actually, I have a matter of utmost importance to share with Mrs. Harrington.” His eyes land on your profile. Seedy and unrelenting. Stoic as ever. 

“I’ll come find you, Cami,” you tell her, following Theo through the throng of guests, leaving the saddened redhead nodding solemnly in the distance. 

Once out of earshot, and in the privacy of a corner, Theo spits out, “Whatever she told you, you don’t know the full story.”

“Oh, I think I know enough.” You splutter the words out, shocked he even has the nerve to try and defend himself for cheating on his wife. “I knew you were an asshole, but you have a wife — and a wonderful one at that. A family. How do you sleep at night?”

He chuckles. A low, dark thing that has your skin crawling. “How do I sleep? That’s sweet, coming from you, darling.”

You pause, throat tightening. Around you, the music blares. Little sparkles of the beginnings of fireworks dance in the moonlit sky. “What are you —” Swallowing, whirl on the heel, intent on leaving, muttering, “You know what? I don’t want to know. I’ll be getting that dr —”

A hand shoots out to grip your forearm. Tight. “Listen, you little rat. I knew you were up to no good, sniffing after the Harrington name. Taking what was mine. And now I have proof.”

“I don’t know what you’re —” You wince, gasping at the pain radiating from where he’s holding you with a strength that’s sure to bruise. “Theo — you’re hurting me.”

He tugs you forward. Your side wedges between the table and his body, his form keeping you sequestered away from the rest of the party goers, just as he pulls out his cellphone. It’s what he pulls up, however, that has all the arguments rising up dying instantaneously on your lips. The realization of the image sitting before you. The forms are blurry, sure, but there’s no doubting the white dress you wore for your bachelorette. 

No doubt that the silhouette of the person glowing brightly on his iPhone is you.  

His voice is biting. A chilling, dark sound that curls and crawls uncomfortably down your spine. Leaves you breathless before him. “I think it’s best if you watch this and then listen very carefully.”

  ——

  Singing. You’re singing. Wailing. You’re not even sure. And Steve? Steve’s a natural born performer — or rather, he is when tequila is involved. It’s the loosest you’ve seen him. His hair lies messy and unkempt on his head, from having run his fingers through it a dozen times out of nervousness as you pull him onto the stage. 

Your friends start the song and you’re both enjoying yourself. Maybe for the first time throughout the whole process. And it’s nice — honest to goodness nice to simply let loose with him; to pretend you’re not getting married soon under the guise of falsifying a will and procuring money to secure a debt. 

So it’s not really all that shocking when Steve grips you and tugs you near to his side as those final lyrics of the song draw to a close. Nor as his hand loops low around your back and he lowers his mouth to brush over yours. 

It’s an immediate rush of flame. A fire that dances and brims. That grows with every swipe of his tongue with yours. You can taste the salt on his tongue, the tequila on his skin, the sweat in the summer heat. He’s perfectly delicious and, at least for the moment, yours. 

It’s dizzying. A lovely free fall. A spiral and a leap. He tugs you closer and the whoops and whistles of your friends greet your ears. To them, you’re a loved up couple on the eve of a wedding — to you? To you, it’s a stolen moment. A dropped facade, a wall lowering. Until, that is, Eddie and Robin tug the two of you apart, practically scolding you both as they lead you to a side room and toss water bottles your way, telling you to stay out for a few minutes. 

You’re giggling. Hips pressing Steve further into the wall you slam him into once the door closes, his palm tight around your hip, mouth roaming over your throat. Hot. He’s so hot and it’s so hot in this room and you want nothing more than to let the moment simmer. To let yourselves steal a second for yourselves. 

And then he’s laughing. A boyish thing that makes your stomach clench. “I can’t believe we did it.”

“They believed it.” 

“They totally think we’re in love,” he laughs out, sides shaking as he tugs you closer. “I knew it would work, but I thought we’d at least have to do a little convincing.” 

“Looks like you just got yourself a company, Harrington.” Your words slur a little, sides trembling with your own laughter. 

“Looks like I did.”

  ——

  The video ends as Steve draws you back in for another kiss, his palm clutching the dough of your ass a little indecently. The room is spilling, and you know there’s music booming loudly all around you, but all you can hear is the throbbing of your heart. 

The ringing in your ears. 

Because Theo knows. 

He knows. 

And in your silence, he catches you. 

A rabbit caught in a trap, his glittering teeth like that of a jackal. 

And he’s grinning. A satisfied looking one across his lips, his eyes locked on your form. 

Breathing becomes harder as you clutch at a table’s edge, trying to maintain your balance. 

Fear clamors like a cymbal in your chest. A loud, rattling thing. An echo that thrums in your bones. Body bright with uncomfortable electricity.  

“Where do you —”

“Mr. Hawthorne.” Linda’s husband. With him already in jeopardy of losing his job — it makes sense. Your blood chills at the realization. “Funnily enough his family owns that venue. He had the video saved to his phone in case he’d ever need it, he told me. You see, we all have our secrets in this world, and need to be prepared for anything. And, well, when he had his most recent meeting with your husband, wherein his job was threatened — well, fear is a wonderful motivator. He’d been venting to me for weeks and happened to show me the video at lunch one evening…”

The knot in your throat tightens like a crude noose. 

“He’d never watched the whole video, you know? Just saved the video of his drunken boss in case he needed to diminish his character. And then I heard it. The two of you, what you were saying. And all these months you lied to my face, tried to act like you’re so much better than me, meanwhile you’re just like the rest of us.” 

Tears burn behind your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. 

Refuse to cower down to Theobald. 

“So don’t you dare comment on my marriage, when yours is nothing more than a drunken mockery of one.”

“It’s not.” Your voice breaks and his lips tip upward. “I love him.”

“So here’s the part where you listen, darling.” 

You say nothing and he loves it. 

“You’re going to march back to your husband’s side. You’re going to pretend you know nothing — but you’re going to convince him to sign the company over to me like he should have all those months ago. Aah aaah, no speaking. I know you’re a good actress, I’ve seen you playing a role for months. That boy is in love with you for reasons I’ll never understand, but he’s in love with you all the same. And you’re going to use that to your advantage. You have a month.” 

“A month?” 

“A month. If not, I’ll bring it to my lawyers.” 

Lawyer. Figures, dollars, numbers. Meetings, hearings, depositions. They all flash in front of your eyes. All things you can’t afford. All things you would never be exposed to, had it not been for the decisions made months ago with the man you now know intimately and love. Worry follows in suit, crawling up your throat and cutting off your windpipe. 

“Now go,” Theo instructs, pushing at your back, guiding you in the direction of Steve. He’s surrounded by various businessmen, head thrown back in a laugh, and when his eyes lock on yours from across the room, it ruptures your heart. “It was lovely speaking with you tonight, Mrs. Harrington.” 

The sentiment isn’t returned, and your feet feel like lead as they carry you over to Steve, but you do as he’s instructed all the same. As you approach, Steve opens his arms to allow you in, introducing you to the people he’s talking with. He’s charming as ever, completely unknowing of what you’ve just been hit with, the gravity of your situation presently weighing you down. 

And, for now, it’s better this way. 

Tomorrow, you decide, tomorrow you’ll take action. 

But for now you giggle and trill and act. You portray the image of a dutiful wife, slipping into your husband’s world as you slip on a mask. His friends laugh at your remarks and smile at you like they’ve known you for years. They act like they adore you, and you do the same. Faux niceties, because inside you’re reeling. Inside, you’re wanting nothing more than to scream and run and hide from the crushing reality all around you.  

And later, as the countdown to the ball dropping begins, and the room erupts in chaos and cheers, Steve pulls you in close. He says, “I love you,” before his mouth descends over your own and you taste the bubbly champagne on his tongue and the sweetness of a new year. If it lacks emotion, he says nothing of it. Only kisses you harder, grinning into your skin at the prospect of his tradition he spoke so happily of only hours ago now. He’s kiss bitten and all charm, smitten and in love. And god, you love him too. 

Fireworks explode across the sky. They illuminate Steve’s face as he holds you against him, your back to his chest. His chin hooks over your shoulder as you stand, staring up at the colorful lights flashing above, mouth leaning in to press the sweetest of kisses to your cheek. 

And there, when your eyes lower and trail across the room, you find Theobald with Cami holding herself at his side. Catch the sadness on her face — her hardened stature a direct contrast to the smugness of Theo’s features as he locks eyes with you. 

“A month,” he mouths, sliding his cellphone out of his pocket just enough that the screen sparks to life once more.

And like a stem of a flower snaps when exposed to too much pressure, your heart breaks too. 

——

please let me know what you think. it means the world to us writers. one more chapter, and then the epilogue. 🩷🩷

[bruhstories]

perfectly imperfect

summary: otto hightower gathers more allies in support of his nephew after the destruction of the dragonpit. y/n reyne, lady of castamere, offers her hand in marriage to aemond targaryen to secure the safety of her land and people.

pairing: aemond targaryen x reyne!fem!reader (aged up)

warnings & content: canon-divergent, graphic descriptions of violence, aegon makes fun of disabilities, aegon is a dick to women, typical asoiaf shenanigans, unprotected sex, p in v, loss of virginity, fem bodied reader

wc: ~3.7k

a/n: listen, i did not plan on simping for aemond, okay? i was actually planning a daemon fic but i got carried away. also, there are NO spoilers for episode 10. i know it got leaked, i haven't watched it yet.

It seemed as if Aegon had won a trophy in Helaena when compared to Aemond's betrothed. He had complained about his sister-wife when he was a child, complained that she wasn't beautiful enough, that she was strange, with her fascination for insects, particularly spiders. Aegon could not fathom why his wife was drawn to such peculiar practices, but part of him was grateful he ended up marrying Helaena and not Y/N Reyne.

Aemond, on the other hand, made no verbal complaints about his soon-to-be wife. He had always obeyed his mother's rules, and he knew his marriage to the Lady of Castamere was nothing but political — an alliance with a powerful and rich family would only benefit in supporting Aegon's claim to the throne. All he had to do was put an heir in Y/N and secure his Targaryen lineage. He didn't have to love her, but he would respect her.

After the destruction of the Dragon Pit, Otto knew he had to act swiftly, asking lords and ladies all around Westeros for their support. It was Y/N Reyne who offered her own hand in marriage in exchange for the protection of her lands and people, and Otto and Alicent agreed. A small price to pay for the riches of Castamere. With her silver and gold, they could fund soldiers for the impending war between the Blacks and the Greens.

Not long after Aegon's coronation, Y/N Reyne travelled to King's Landing for a quick wedding. There was no time for feasts and parties, there was no time for her to get to know her husband — she wanted her people safe, and Otto wanted supporters.

The Lady of Castamere arrived at the Red Keep on horseback with a promised 200 soldiers, chests of gold, silver and rubies. Greeted by the king himself, Y/N bowed down, offering Aegon a dagger encrusted with small rubies on its silver handle.

"It's not Valyrian steel, your grace, but it was made by my finest blacksmiths." She removed the hood of her cloak, exposing a scar that went from her cheek, down her neck, the rest hidden behind her chest plate.

Aegon scrunched his nose at the sight of her scar, but the look of disgust came after she removed her leather gloves, revealing a missing ring finger on her right hand.

"You'll make a fine wife for my brother." The king sneered, and Alicent smiled. Finally, her son was speaking like a true royal. "Seeing as you're both cripples." Aegon laughed, toying with the dagger in his hand, bored and perhaps drunk.

Y/N pursed her lips. It took a lot of willpower not to bark back at him. She had sworn her loyalty to him, after all.

"I see your grace has a sense of humour." The Lady of Castamere smiled, the scar more visible when her cheeks puffed up.

It made Aegon's stomach churn to see a flawed woman. At least Helaena tried to look feminine, dressed in the finest of silks and wearing the most expensive jewellery, like a true queen. Yet Y/N was boyish, wearing metal plates and leather trousers. In the king's mind, she should've been in a carriage, not on a horse. She should've worn a dress, not an armour. She should've let her hair flow, not wear it in a plait.

The silence in the Red Keep was deafening, until Alicent offered to take Y/N to her chambers and Otto ordered Ser Criston Cole to take the westerlands soldiers to the East Barracks. The Lady of Castamere was taken aback when Alicent had asked her about her wedding dress, as Y/N had not brought one.

"I assumed it would be a quick wedding." She shrugged.

"I understand, but the king would not like it if you came to your own wedding wearing... that." Alicent sighed, exhausted by Aegon's shenanigans. "Come, we'll find something in Helaena's chambers."

All of the queen's dresses were beautiful, most of them silver or gold, but they did not fit Y/N. Her frame was quite athletic, as the scar on her skin was won in battle, and she was much taller, making the dresses look like they were tossed on a fence, not worn by a woman.

"My lady, I am truly sorry-"

"No, it's fine." Alicent chewed on her lower lip, an idea creeping in her mind. Y/N could wear one of Rhaenyra's old dresses, preferably one that wasn't black. In a bitter twist of fate, Rhaenyra's clothes did fit Y/N, and it only made Alicent more conflicted about her friendship, about everything that was happening.

It was overwhelming to see her son's future wife wearing her best friend's clothes. In the dusty golden dress and her hair in a braid, Y/N reminded Alicent of the day she had asked Rhaenyra about her and Daemon, a day that changed the course of everyone's lives. Who knew back then that their friendship would turn into animosity?

"My lady? Is something the matter?" Y/N took Alicent's hand in hers.

"No. No, you look perfect. Please, I have one last request." She smiled, but there was so much sadness hidden behind that smile.

"Of course."

"Untie your hair. Let it flow down your back. Just for tonight. After your wedding you may do with it as you please."

It was a strange request, but Y/N did not dare question it. She untied the bow holding her hair in place, running her fingers through her locks. Satisfied, Alicent hurried her out of Rhaenyra's chamber and into the Throne Room, where the king, the queen, the Hand, the High Septon, and Aemond waited.

That was the first time Y/N met her soon-to-be husband, the patch on his eye making him look both mysterious and menacing. She then understood what Aegon meant by cripple. Y/N bowed in front of the king and queen, taking her place to Aemond's right side. The younger Targaryen showed no emotion whatsoever at her presence, instead took her hands in his, listening to the Septon's prayers.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband." Y/N uttered her vows, noticing the disinterested look on Aegon's face.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife." Aemond did not hesitate snaking his fingers behind Y/N's ear, pulling her into a soft kiss, interrupted only by the king's own drunken chuckles, mixed with hiccups.

"You are now man and wife — one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever." The High Septon concluded, followed by dead silence.

Everyone knew what would happen next — consummation. Y/N was clever enough to know that she had to give Aemond an heir, but part of her hoped she would not be with child. She wanted to fight by her husband's side, not stay in the Red Keep or Castamere and raise children. Nevertheless, she was urged by Otto to follow Aemond in his chamber, and she reluctantly did.

To her surprise, her husband gently held her hand on the way up the stairs, and while she has been in battles, lost a finger, and had her face mutilated, the thought of losing her maidenhead made her feel sick. Before her mother died, she had prepared Y/N for the consummation of her marriage — how to seduce her husband, how to please him, what to say, where to touch him. It all seemed easy in theory, but putting it in practice was much, much harder.

There was a lump in her throat that she couldn't swallow, and although she felt cold, beads of sweat began to form on her forehead. Y/N thought she knew fear, but nothing compared to this. It did not help that Aemond did not utter a single word after speaking his vows, and perhaps it was for the best. There was nothing he could say that would make her feel less anxious. When he began to remove his cloak and unbutton his doublet, Y/N froze.

"Wait." She finally spoke, and Aemond did wait. He wasn't necessarily impatient to consummate his marriage, unlike his brother who would fuck anything that had two legs and a pretty face. "Before we proceed, I have to say this."

"Go on." Aemond neatly folded his cloak, placing it on a wooden chair, the half-unbuttoned doublet exposing his chest.

"I'm a fighter, not a mother. I will gladly give you an heir, if that is what you desire, but I want to fight side by side with you, my lord husband." Y/N hurried to where he stood, stripping herself of her ego by pleading with him.

"Why?" There was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The only other person who shared Aemond's passion for violence was Ser Criston Cole. Not even his brother was seduced by violence, let alone a noblewoman.

"You are a dragon." She replied. "I am a lion. We are not meant to be kept as pets. You, out of everyone, must understand the thrill of the battle, especially when you fight for what you believe in." Y/N spotted the wine on the table and poured herself a cup, only to ease her mind — and her body.

"And what do you believe in, then?" Aemond watched her sloppily drink the wine, the red liquid spilling down her chin, down the crook of her neck, staining the dress of the woman he so much hated.

"Violence." The Lady of Castamere slammed the cup on the table, feeling herself a tad more courageous. "Pure, ecstatic violence."

It was quite clear that her mother's seducing techniques would not work on a man like Aemond, and they did not need to work, because Y/N's honesty completely enchanted him. To have someone share his passions was more than he could ask from a wife. Once, he was fascinated by, perhaps enamoured with Helaena, but she was soft, and had he married her and grown to love her, she would've softened him. Y/N, on the other hand, was the spark he needed to ignite the fire flowing in his veins. He was a dragon, after all.

"I do not desire an heir." Aemond admitted. He couldn't see himself a father, partly because his own father seemed to prefer his nephews instead of his sons. The fact that Y/N was not interested in being a mother only solidified his love for battle. "And I do not care if you give me one."

Aemond's words awakened something in Y/N, something she had never felt before. It most certainly wasn't love — she couldn't possibly love a man she had just met. It was something else. Lust.

"So, will you allow me to fight, then?" Her voice went up an octave, excited, like a child receiving a toy.

"Gladly. Tell me," Aemond decided to consummate the marriage by discussing their experiences in battle, "have you killed before?" He poured himself a cup of wine. The young Targaryen wasn't keen on drinking, like his brother, but he enjoyed the occasional cup of Arbor Red. And he enjoyed drinking it over talks of spilled blood.

Y/N nodded, taking a seat at the table, finally feeling relaxed.

"Once." She watched her husband sit on the chair next to her, urging her to tell him how and when, and to not shy away from details. Y/N explained that it truly was an accident. Or, better it started as an accident. "Because father never let me fight, I used to dress like a boy and play with wooden swords. But because I was also a spoiled child, I couldn't fathom losing." She sighed, and Aemond was beginning to pick up on where her story was going.

"You don't seem like a spoiled child." Her husband watched her unwind, taking her shoes off and kicking them away.

"I suppose I never wanted to be one, but I liked the perks that came with it. That day, I was playing with the stable boys, and one of them beat the life out of me. I didn't mind the physical pain, but I felt humiliated." Y/N scoffed. "When I attacked him, he removed the hood from my head and instantly recognised me. I was fortunate enough that the other boys left, but out of fear of father finding out what I was doing, I pushed him so hard he fell and hit his head in the stone wall."

"But it was accidental." Aemond mimicked his wife by taking his boots off. He felt strangely comfortable around Y/N, discussing issues he could never talk about with his family.

"Indeed." She agreed. "But I was afraid he would heal and tell the maesters who did that to him. When I caught a glimpse of a dagger, I picked it up, straddled the boy and stabbed him."

"How many times?" His voice was dangerously low, and although Aemond was leaned back in the chair, his fingernails dug into the wood of the armrests, excited to hear more.

"Enough for him to never recover. There was so much blood." Y/N gingerly touched her face, as if she could still feel the hot crimson liquid trickling down her chin. "Warm blood — on my hands, my clothes, my face. I should've felt guilty, but I didn't." There was no hint of remorse in her voice, and her eyes darted to Aemond's lap. It did not surprise her that he was aroused by her story, the bulge in his leather trousers growing more noticeable every time she spoke about blood.

"Then what happened?"

"I left him there, ran back to the castle, burned the clothes and went to bed." Y/N laughed, not at the poor boy's death, but at how selfish she had been. "I was young and stupid."

"You talk as if you're an old hag." The corners of Aemond's lips turned into a smirk.

"It happened a decade ago."

"Tell me, then, if you had your current wisdom, what would you have done?" He leaned forward, studying his wife.

"I would do it all again." Y/N smiled, the wine taking over her brain. She played into her husband's game by imitating him and leaning closer to his face. "I would perhaps get rid of the body this time." Y/N whispered into Aemond's ear.

He had heard enough — enough to desire her in bed. It could've been the wine, it could've been that he hasn't laid with a woman in a long time, but Aemond grabbed Y/N by the back of her neck, pressing his lips onto hers. She allowed him to slide his tongue between her wine-stained lips, and even dared to pull him closer.

Her fears? Gone.

Her morals? Gone.

Her last shred of dignity? Gone.

Aemond pulled away, earning a soft sigh from his wife, only to pull her up from the chair and push her onto the table, the cups clattering onto the floor.

"You..." He whispered, struggling to pull her dress up. "You were made to be mine." Aemond resorted to tearing the dress apart. He didn't like it, anyway, and he knew it brought sorrow to his mother.

Y/N melted under his touch like steel in dragonfire. She hastily pulled his green shirt over his head, taking a moment to appreciate his looks. It tickled Aemond's ego. He did not give two shits on people's opinion of him, but seeing the lust in her eyes only fuelled his inner fire.

"I-" She pressed her palms against his chest. "I am a maiden." Y/N told him, as if he expected her not to be one.

"I can't promise to be gentle." Aemond kissed her again. "But I can promise you will enjoy it."

That was a foreign concept to her. All the stories she heard from her mother were about pain, and how it was a woman's duty to bed her husband and not take pleasure from it. Only whores enjoy it, her mother would say. A whore she would be, then.

Once both of them were stripped of their clothes and morals, Y/N squeezed her thighs together, partly because she wanted to tease her husband. And Aemond was too far gone to respect his wife. His elbow pushed between her thighs, opening her legs while his hands dug into her hips, pulling her closer to him, like a starving dog.

"It will hurt." Was his attempt to comfort her.

"I know." Y/N nodded, her fingernails digging into his upper arms, bracing for pain. "I'm ready."

With her consent out of the way, Aemond slowly slid the tip of his cock between her already slick folds, stopping when he saw the discomfort on her face.

"Relax." He demanded, but it came from a good place. Being more experienced, Aemond wanted everything but to hurt her. When she nodded again, he pushed further, only to hear his wife scream in agony. "Bite into my shoulder. I don't suppose you want to wake everyone up."

Reluctantly, Y/N obeyed the order, her teeth sinking into his skin, and when he bottomed out, she arched her back in pain, wriggling and writhing under him. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, despite Aemond stopping every movement to allow her to adjust to his size. What was worse was gone, and Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as if her life depended on it.

"By the gods, it hurts so much!" She cried out, gasping when she saw the mark she left on his skin.

"I know. But it will not get any worse than this." Aemond assured her. "Do you trust me?"

"I do." Y/N sobbed, but he was right. The pain slowly dissipated, and her muscles relaxed, no longer feeling on edge. It still hurt, yes, but it did not compare to the sheer pain she had felt moments ago.

When Aemond began rolling his hips, something awakened in the Lady of Castamere. The slight discomfort was still present, but it was quickly replaced by an unknown feeling which Y/N realised was something primal and instinctive — pleasure. Not even the thrills of fighting could compare to the pleasure she felt when Aemond thrusted harder and harder into her sloppy cunt.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He practically growled, surprising himself with his own words. Aemond wasn't the type of man to talk during these intimate moments, and while he enjoyed the occasional visits to brothels with Aegon, his wife was superior to all the whores he'd ever fucked.

Even her gestures were drawing him to her — the way Y/N rolled her eyes back, how she gasped, how she scratched his skin, leaving her mark on his body. Sure, Aegon might be disgusted by her scar and missing finger, but to Aemond, she was perfectly imperfect.

"So g-good!" Her thoughts were fuzzy, her words barely coherent. All Y/N could do was take him all in and revel in the bliss Aemond offered her.

But he wanted more, and when he pulled out, she complained. It bewildered her how much she actually enjoyed herself, to the point she cried out when she couldn't feel his cock stuffing her.

"Turn around." Aemond ordered, but he was already in the process of flipping her over, his hand pressing her face on the table.

Instinctively, Y/N lifted her ass up, like a bitch in heat, her fingernails leaving scratches on the wood.

"Please, put it in." Her cheeks were squished on the hard surface, body hot to the touch. There was no more room for decency and grace when all she wanted was for her husband to fuck her stupid.

"Already worshipping my cock, eh?" His lips pressed a kiss on her shoulder before he released the grip on her neck to lift her leg on the table. But he delivered, and he pushed his cock into her yearning cunt, a string of moans escaping her lips.

Y/N arched her back, not believing it would be possible for her to feel better than before. Oh, how wrong her mother was. She could feel him deeper, and he was anything but gentle and respectful.

The more he thrusted, the more she bucked her hips, using her trembling arms for support. Aemond's chambers echoed with her moans and his grunts, with the sound of skin on skin, and the disgusting wet noises that filled the Street of Silk.

And then it happened — Aemond's pace quickened, his fingers bruising her hips, and Y/N could feel her climax boiling into her core, awaiting release. Her spongy walls clenched around his cock, her head felt lighter and her chest heavier.

"Gods, Aemond, I can't-" She fell flat on the table, the filthiest guttural sounds emanating from her.

"Fuck." He could feel himself closer to his own climax, but he swiftly pulled his cock out, spilling his seed onto her lower back.

The warm liquid made Y/N prop herself on her elbows, curious as to why he did not finish inside of her.

"No heirs tonight." Aemond said, as if hearing her thoughts. "You're not a cow for breeding, you are my wife."

"I could've taken the tea." She spotted a piece of fabric from her wedding dress and took it, attempting to clean herself.

"You could've, but then everyone would find out." He snatched the fabric from her hand and wiped her skin clean. "And what would my grandfather think, then? That you're not a woman of your word, or worse, that you're plotting against the king."

Aemond was right. The maester would surely let the Hand know, and then she would either be imprisoned or killed.

"Very well. No heirs tonight." Y/N took the soiled fabric, tossing it into the fireplace. 

Aemond brought Y/N one of his robes, draping it around her shoulders, his hand resting on the small of her back. Strangely, he felt the urge to hold her close to him, this woman he met and wed on the same day. He felt the need to protect her, despite knowing very well she did not need his protection.

But the only people he ever showed affection were his mother, and occasionally his sister. He did not know how to be a husband. But to show his wife that he trusted her, Aemond quietly took his eye patch off, revealing a sapphire gem in place of his missing eye.

"Disfigured." He uttered, watching his own reflection in the mirror next to the fireplace.

"No, perfect." She smiled, tilting her head so that he could better see her scar. Aemond brought his index finger to her cheek, tracing the scar down her neck, down her collarbone, in-between her breasts.

"One flesh, one heart, one soul." He repeated the Septon's words, and they began to make more sense.

"Now and forever."