#to the last place you and your husband were truly happy and you see no fucking problem with that what is wrong with you and then you want to

[milo-is-rambling]

God having complicated emotions is so fucking draining

[thatsdemko]

drought - c.leclerc

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: husband!charles leclerc x wife!fem!reader

warnings: not intended for minors + fingering (f receiving) + minor grammatical errors!

a/n: everyone say thank you to Charles leclerc’s recent photo dump

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

the simulator, the meetings, the practices, the races. it’s never ending exhaustion for Charles as he struggles grappling the seasons horrid start.

he’s thankful to have someone to turn to when times get rough. his lovely wife, you. through thick and thin is what you promised each other, and right now? this was the thin. this was what was starting to tear you both further apart.

Charles spent all his time home at the simulator, or any chance he could, at the factory. you’ve spent dozens of lonely, boring, nights in your shade king size bed.

the picture frame above the headboard is no longer crooked. you’d have time to fix it into place because the reason it fell was the endless nights of sex. the headboard would bang into the wall and eventually the picture, from your wedding night, would either come falling down, or end up sideways on the hook.

it was a reminder of your once thrilling sex life has come to an end. sex was no longer something you both were actively participating in. it was rather you and a vibrator on those lonely occasions.

“headed out?” you ask, picking your head up from your book in your lap. you’d heard his heavy footsteps. his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth searching the right sneakers to wear.

“just to maman’s salon. been awhile.” he says coming into the living room to sit beside you on the couch.

you nod in agreement having not remembered the last time his beautiful brown hair was trimmed. although, you don’t mind the length, and neither did his fans. you’d encouraged him to listen to them, and at the time he laughed. then you showed him why you liked it so much. the ends being tugged between your fingers, ruffled and yanked during sex, he enjoyed the arousal. now, there was no need for it.

“tell her I say hi.” you say, soft smile forming to your lips.

he catches your eyes for a brief second when he looks up from tying his shoes. he takes the quick second to press a kiss to your cheek, “you should come by. maman would love to see you.”

you’d missed pascale. in fact, you missed his whole family. it’d been months since you’d shared a laugh with Arthur, or even held conversation with Lorenzo and his new girlfriend. while you knew the chances were slim to seeing his siblings, you still joined him in the car. it’d been the first time in weeks being in his pista.

his hand dangerously slips across the center console. his thumb strokes the skin your inner thigh that’s exposed from your biker shorts. he’s happy you’ve tagged along, he can’t remember the last time you’ve spent more than two hours together that wasn’t spent sleeping.

“I noticed you fixed the picture above our bed.” he says turning to look at you for a brief second at the stop light. you figured he hadn’t noticed, it was slight change and he rarely slept at home when he had days off. you’re sure he’s seen the toy under your side of the bed if he truly went looking.

“gives you a new challenge again.” you reply back watching the wheel spin under his hands as he pulls into the parking lot. you were finally free from his grip.

he scoffs, putting the car in park, “it was always too easy. it was never a challenge.”

a smirk forms to your lips. your words catching him before he slips out the car, “well you have a new challenge and it’s much better than you’ve been in the past month.”

—

you’re sitting in the chair beside him watching pascale trim the wet ends of his hair. a few fall in his face or around the top of the cape.

she’s happy to see you. in fact, she’s only talking to you the whole time.

she doesn’t notice how you’ve been squeezing your legs together every so often. your one leg is crossed over the other, he sees you shifting in the chair as you answer his mothers questions. he sees how turned on you’ve become watching him.

it’s funny to him. how it’s the most mundane thing ever and it’s got your pussy throbbing for him. all he’s doing is sitting in the chair allowing his mother to cut the dead ends of his hair.

he can tell whatever you were using to get off was not enough. and it was his own damn fault for choosing the simulator or the factory over pleasuring his wife’s needs.

pascale walks away to answer the phone leaving you two alone, and he swivels the chair in your direction, “I did not know this would get you so horny.”

you feel heat spread across your cheeks. you try to pull the neck of the sweatshirt over your face to hide the embarrassment of being caught.

“when we get home—“

“you think I’ll last getting home?” you cut him off before he can propose his plan. his eyes widen, a smirk toys his lips as he shakes his head seeing his mother come back into the room.

“take the keys to the pista, you’re making this hard for me.” he tosses the keys into your lap, “it’s a private parking lot. you can finish what I started.”

“I’m almost done with him. you‘ll be able to go home in no time.” pascale promises and continues to trim his hair. you watch for another couple of minutes and now she’s finally getting ready to blow dry his wet hair.

you can’t watch any longer. you’ve made up an excuse to head to his car and wait out the final minutes. you’ve turned on the air in the car and sat in the passenger seat awaiting his arrival to take you home.

your leg anxiously bounces as you hear him whistling. he opens the passenger door, takes the knob that adjusts the seat, and pushes it as far back as it goes allowing him to kneel in front of your seat.

“Charles what are you doing?” you ask watching him close the passenger door once he’s in. it’s cramped. his head is just inches close to the top of the car, your legs are nearly into your lap and suddenly it’s warm in the car. the air must’ve kicked off after a period of time running.

“taking care of something.” he leans over your lap, letting the back of the seat go as far down as it can. he moves you closer to the edge of the seat, “lift your hips.” he demands and you do as he asks, allowing him to remove your shorts.

“Charles, we can’t do this in your car—“

“nobody is here.” he points out the very obvious. not another car is in this parking lot, and there’s not a single car that has drove down this street since arriving. you were as safe as you could be under the street lights.

“come on, let me treat you right.” he coos, fingers running up and down your thighs, “I did this to you.” he reaches into your lap, fingers toying with the wet material clung to your pussy, a whine threatening at your tongue.

“can I do that? can I touch my wife?”

you nod, unable to speak any words. you push you hips up again allowing him to remove your panties. you spread your legs as far wide as you can. his index finger stretches out across your folds. it’s like a ghost against your skin, you can feel him but barely. a soft whine escapes your lips, you lean back against the seat.

“good girl,” he whispers, “just relax for me.” he says. his index finger wiggles in your entrance. his name rolls off your tongue ever so quickly, and you feel him add a second finger not even giving you a chance to respond.

your fingers go flying into his freshly cut hair, and yank on the short ends. you curse him for what he’s done, and try to grab anything you can while his fingers pump inside of you. he takes his time, discovers every single bit of you like lost treasure. a place he hasn’t tended to in awhile.

sweet whines and moans escape your lips. it’s adorable how quick you were able to fold under his touch. all it ever really took was a swipe of his finger, tongue, or anything else to get your body to fold. you were his in the matter of seconds.

you feel one of his fingers just brush your clit. your back arches, pussy clenching around his fingers. you’re begging him to do it again, and again, until you come.

he doesn’t stop until he notices your legs are visibly shaking, the car is shaking from your bodies response, and until his fingers are met with cum.

“I can’t.” you breathe out, your body itches to exhale the sweet cum he ever so loves. he’s nodding along, encouraging you to come. you throw your body back against the seat, you feel the body of the car move as you do so. sweet delicious cum finally exits your body and so do his fingers.

“that was fun wasn’t it?” he licks his index and middle finger of your cum before pulling your set up close to where it was, and he’s getting out of the car. you quickly pull your shorts back up and double check your hair.

you look him in the eyes when he slides into the drivers seat. you can see the arousal in his pants, a content smile across his face, “don’t worry, you can take care of me when we get home. I’ve got an idea in my mind.”

[yxami]

I’m behind I know, I’m rushing 😓😓

desc: yandere victim x kidnapper reader, more of him kidnapping you at this point, and happy nut November 2, nsfw, all consensual, mentions of obsession, overstimulation, edging, etc

Recently, you’ve allowed Lawrence to roam around in your home, he has yet to run out the door and claim freedom. Honestly, you’re not even bothering to put any of the keys in a remote place like you used to when you had no trust in this… relationship?

Kidnappship? Whatever it was, it was odd but it somehow worked.

Ren would cook all the meals you’d have throughout the day, acting as a house husband rather than a past victim of kidnapping, if anything you were the hostage. He was able to snitch you out at any time if he ever got bored of the routine he established.

Your coworkers truly believed you managed to tie someone down, judging from all the sticky notes that were with a series of packed lunches, something you have never brought before. Usually it was just a sandwich from whatever place was close by.

“Good luck at work honey, I miss you already! Heart heart?” Your coworker read out loud, grin growing as they continue to poke fun with how you’ve been bringing packed lunches with notes, and the words never repeated, each day it was a new confession.

“Shut up” You’d roll your eyes, always denying any sort of suggestion that you were with someone, even though Lawrence was always ready to act like the two of you were dating.

“Whaddya’ mean I can’t pack notes anymore? You don’t like them?” He immediately feels his heart crumble against this small rejection, he holds his chest as if you’ve stabbed him.

“It’s just.. my coworkers think I have a partner and I don’t need them snooping in my personal life” You groan, already knowing he was going to be either mad or throwing a crying fit over this.

Your mind bounced on whether you should read his diary tonight to see if he was going to hold a grudge.

“They shouldn’t be interested in your personal life anyways! I want them to know that you’re taken by me” He pushes his pink lips into a slight frown, reminding you how pretty he looks even when he’s upset with you.

“Ren you know I’m not in love with you right?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, hoping you wouldn’t have to dive into another conversation about how this was just about ransom and not something like his delusions.

But you already know he’s accepted that you love him even if you deny deny deny, so you’ve recently given up on those talks.

“I know you are, stop trying to make me upset, you know I don’t like it when you lie” He crosses his arms, tempted to jump into yours like he always does, even when you’re the reason he’s upset, but he’s convinced himself that he can last longer.

“Fine, I do, but can you just stop with the notes?” You curl your arm behind the small of his back, leaning against him as he presses himself against the kitchen counter.

“Hmm” He hums, enjoying your loving touch, hugging your lower back as he rests his chin on the top of your head. “Okay, but it’s not fair if I don’t get something in return” He backs up his upper body a bit to let you see his pitiful puppy pout in order to get you to agree.

He’s found that this tactic works well, and he’s managed to use it about 5 times instead of verbally begging like he usually does, he’s been keeping track.

“Alright, what do you want? More cooking supplies? Cuddles?”

He shakes his head.

“Free access to my phone for an hour?” You tilt your head, assuming that would work since he loves to check on whatever you do, of course with your permission, most of the times anyways..

He hums disapprovingly, which has you guessing of what he could possibly want since those were his favorite things in the entire world, all of them placing 2nd while you were his 1st.

“I want to.. be closer with you” He mumbles hesitantly, looking more red than his usual tint of blush when he’s teased or flustered.

“What did you want to start sleeping in the same bed?” You say casually, even though you should probably establish boundaries with someone you claim to not be your partner and just a temporary roommate.

But it’s a little too late for that, you’ve gotten attached to having him around, cooking you your food and such, but you wouldn’t accept that until later.

“No I mean like being together.. the way couples do” He squirms around, fiddling with his hands in his lap, something he always does when he’s upset. There’s a whiny tone in his voice, a bit exasperated from anxiety at having to explain further.

“Are you trying to say fuck?” You state without any nervousness that Ren would insist you need.

He nods quickly.

You’re asking yourself how you got into this situation but you could’ve said no at any time, you could even kick him out and tell him that you need space so there wasn’t a chance for him to get mad if you had a reason.

And you knew he wasn’t the type to go and tattle on you to his parents, if you had to guess then he’d likely just beg to come back rather than throw an angry fit and get you locked up, that would be out of character for him if he did.

But you make excuses, plenty of them to ignore the feelings you’ve been hiding for awhile now.

“Please don’t go so fast” He looks up with tears threatening to spill, holding onto your skin so tightly you think it could bruise. You run your hands down his sides, calming him down from his high, just to have him drunk on the unexplainable feeling once again.

“M’ goin at a normal pace, you’re just so sensitive” You hum, pumping his cock with your hand, slowly teasing at the veins by tracing them softly with your fingers. He lets out a throaty whine, knowing you were right but being too distracted to agree.

He bucks his hips into your palm, trying to satisfy his own greedy need for your touch even when he’s so overstimulated. “When.. when can I be inside of you?” He whispers, rubbing his tears away that finally ran down his face.

“I thought this was already too much for you to handle?” You tease at how just a few minutes ago he was pleading that your hand on his cock was too much for his perverted mind.

“Not anymore.. please?” He begs, sitting up to kiss at your jaw and lips, biting your bottom lip as he pleads with a few more whispers.

“If you say so” You giggle, already knowing he was going to be telling you to slow down soon enough. He helps you by lining his sensitive head right at your hole, easily slipping in as you lower yourself onto him. He could feel your slick insides welcome him with ease and he couldn’t help himself but thrust up.

You bite down on your shirt that you have yet to remove, not allowing a surprised whimper or sound to be let out. Lawrence notices it quickly and pouts, moving his hands to clasp around your hips as he helps you bounce on his cock.

“You’re really warm” He comments, feeling his face heat up as his mind finally picks up on the fact that the two of you are fucking. Something he’s dreamed about since day one of being here, and it’s nothing like he’s imagined.

You’re softer, and tighter, and there’s a little whimper you let out whenever his cock bottoms out right where the head of his cock can push against a sensitive spot deep inside you.

Everything’s different than he imagined, and he loves everything about it.

Once you gained your composure you pick up the pace, moving your hips to tease and thrust his cock inside, and the flustered expression left on his face from how good you felt had you more motivated to ruin him.

“I’m all yours, you’re so nice to me, I love you” He continued to prattle, insistent on making sure you know exactly how he feels right now. He needs to let you know, he’s fumbling over his words even more when you run your hands down his chest.

You weren’t sure whether it was his cock or him as person making you whisper reciprocating confessions against his neck as you kiss his skin. “I love you too..” You mumble, feeling embarrassed at the vulnerable moment. Lawrence perks up and pounds into you faster than he’s ever done in the last few minutes.

“S—say that again? Please? Cmon, what did you say?” He pants, desperate to hear your sweet words, he could’ve sworn he heard you say I love you, something he’s wanted to hear for so long.

“I didn’t say anything..!” You look away, cursing at yourself internally for giving this idiot the satisfaction of finally having his love reciprocated after so much of you being in denial.

“I heard you say it, please” He complains, needing to heard those three words leave your lips, and he’s certain he’ll heard them again soon enough.

Even if it takes multiple rounds

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Can I request smt with Luocha, Dan Heng, Argenti and Boothill? (Separate, and dw if u don’t write for boothill ^^)

You’re dating them and randomly call them husband just to see their reaction. You just say it so casually too during a convo with maybe a friend or a family member

Argenti: ‘Argenti might as well be my husband at this point.’ You said to your friend after retelling a story regarding yourself and Argenti.

‘Awww! I wish Royland was more like Argenti.’ Your friend groaned, glaring daggers at the back of their boyfriend’s head.

Argenti visibly perked up at this, his eyes and smile were practically glowing. Did he hear you right, you consider him as a potential Husband? The gods have answered his prayers and quelled any worries that he might’ve had beforehand. For Argenti fully intends to be your husband one day and until then will commit himself to proving to you why he would make an excellent husband.

The moment he met you, to the moment you begun dating, all Argenti could think of was what it would be like being your devoted husband, your soul partner for the rest of your lives. No one else will do for Argenti but you, and he’s so loyal and extremely devoted to being your partner that the thought of looking at anyone else was so blasphemous; so much so that he’d rather hand you his eyes on a gold platter then ever be tempted by any other.

Argenti has had many dreams about your domestic life as a happily married couple, a happily married couple who were very much still in their honeymoon phase, but when he’s your husband that honeymoon phase would never fade away and die. He would make every day feel just as unique and special as the last few.

He might as well have ‘y/n’s husband’ as his name instead of Argenti because of how much he would use it when introducing himself to anyone new.

Needless to say by the end of the month to the day you and Argenti were officially married and more happy than ever.

Luocha: ‘Luocha would make an amazing husband, don’t you agree?’ You asked your friend, eyeing your boyfriend across the room for his reaction.

‘I thought Luocha was already your husband.’ Your friend asked, genuinely confused.

the moment Luocha hears his name being spoken he doesn’t think much of it, but when it was in the same sentence of as the word husband, that well and truly caught his attention. However it doesn’t take him long to realise what you were doing, but once he realised what was going on it was already too late, as the reaction you pulled out of him was very much a genuine one.

Neither of you had talked about it but according to your friend, you must’ve came across as to others a married couple anyways. So much so that even if you were to ever make it a reality nothing much would change at all for anyone other then himself and you; Yet that didn’t change the fact that the seed was planted and has taken ahold inside of Luocha’s mind as he walked towards you and your friend, placing a hand to the small of your back as he politely greeted your friend, acting none the wiser.

Well your friend might not pick up the hidden cues that told you that he knew, but you did, you could pick up his cues as easily as breathing which makes attempts at teasing one another all the more fun and interesting; Luocha could read you like the back of his hand and you were only starting to get the hang of reading him.

So the look he gives you may not seem like much to other people but to you, it was him telling you that he knew what you were doing, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him in victory because he took the bait you had put in place for him. You didn’t need to hear him to know that the first thing he’d ask once you took your leave would be:

‘I don’t think it’s wise of you to tease your husband. Do you?’

Boothill: ‘you and Boothill? Now that I didn’t see coming.’ Your friend joked as if you hadn’t openly said the most outrageous, thirsty shit about your now boyfriend.

‘Watch it because sooner or later he’ll become my husband.’ You joked back as you and your fiend shared a laugh.

Boothill flashes his sharp teeth in a wicked smirk upon hearing you call him your husband.

Oh now you’ve done it. He’s not going to let you live down the fact that you had called him your husband. He refuses to because he wants to see how you’d react to it. So he’ll make his presence know by confidently striding up to you and resting his hand on your waist, squeezing it, before smashing his sharp teeth once more but this time in a Cheshire grin.

‘Husband?’ He’d ask. ‘Have I secretly been promoted from being your boyfriend without my knowledge? I’m honoured sweetheart, but warn a fella next time before you go and pull this sort of stunt off. Oh wait,’ he pauses before continuing. ‘There’s not going to be a next time because you ain’t gonna be getting rid of me anytime soon. You’re stuck with me forever sugar.’ He cackles as he shamelessly swats you on the ass -hard- for good measure.

Yeah your plan kind of back fired on you because now your the one with the extremely flustered face, and now an sore ass that’ll become a bruise on top of that.

Boothill loved the idea of you belonging to him and only him and vice versa. He’s a possessive prick who’ll gladly put a bullet of two between the eyes of any bastard stupid enough to look at you for longer than a second.

He’s not one to share his treasure and never will be. You’re his now unto forever. Also he’d probably jokingly call himself your husband whenever you meet new people along your journey, and or scaring suitors off by screaming that you/him were married. (You very much weren’t but it works in keeping creeps away, so that’s a bonus.)

He plays on it so much that it’s an inside joke between the two of you and the two of you alone.

Dan Heng: ‘my husband Dan Heng, is just outside getting fresh air, he’s not fond of overcrowded social gatherings.’ You explained to your parents who shared a look of understanding.

Dan Heng, who had finally came back into the house, overheard this conversation and immediately his face burst into flames as his palms became sweaty all of a sudden and his breath hitched in his throat.

Husband?

Him?

Is that why he’s been invited for your family vacations with your parents, grandparents and relatives with their spouses of their own? All because they thought he was your husband? Dan Heng thought he was going to faint then and there from how many times he’s mentioned himself as your husband.

You’ve been together for a while now, but the fact that you were calling him your husband had him feeling some type of way that went beyond comprehension. He likes the idea of being your husband and has had a couple of shameless dreams where you very much were married and had a small family of your own, living a peaceful and loving life together and growing old together, still very much in love. However he always seemed to be at a loss for words when wondering whether in an alternate reality his dreams were your lived reality.

Dan Heng has so many thoughts on being your husband, one of them being that he’d be grateful in being chosen to be your life partner, while the other had still yet to find the words to voice his desire in being your husband aloud without being overcome by his own emotions. So until then he’ll have to suffer you freely calling him your husband in the presence of your parents, not that he’s complaining but he’d rather not be asked why his face still went so red when being called your husband, especially after so long of being assumedly married by your parents.

[muddyorbsblr]

bigger than the whole sky [rtc what if…?]

'relinquish the crown' masterlist See my full list of works here!

BE WARNED SPOILERS FOR THE LOKI SEASON 2 FINALE AHEAD

Summary: What if…you'd broken Frigga's memory spell without Loki? | Your search for your husband leads you to a peculiar void beyond the Nine Realms, to a place that vaguely resembles the Tree of Life that you'd only read about in historical texts.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: angst with no happy ending in sight; this is in the RTC universe so…themes of incest if you squint; Loki S2 finale spoilers; slight violence in the beginning [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: gonna repeat it again…Loki S2 finale spoilers ahead; no prior reading of RTC is required to suffer enjoy reading this story

"I will ask you one final time, you sadistic hedonist," you panted, taking a moment to lean on Stormbreaker while the eccentric tyrannical leader of Sakaar laid bleeding on the ground. One hand clutched his abdomen where you'd struck him, the other gingerly held his broken nose.

This wasn't something that you enjoyed doing, putting others through pain. But knowing Loki's history with this Grandmaster long before you two had met was easing your worry somehow that you were doing something reprehensible. There were pains that your beloved, even after all the time you'd known each other prior to your betrothal and marriage, were not quite ready to share with you.

His time in Sakaar was among those pains.

That knowledge alone was enough to get you to stop catching your breath, marching over to the Grandmaster and pinning him to the ground with the end of your battle axe's handle.

"Where is Loki?"

"Lady, I already told you back in the viewing box, I haven't seen your u--Agh!" You pressed Stormbreaker's handle harder against a tender spot on his shoulder, his body visibly showing signs of surrender before he started tapping on the floor. "Alright I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whined.

"Shall we try this again, then?" He did his best to nod his head, sighing heavily. "Where did you last see him?"

"I swear to you on my Champion's grave it's been millions of years for me here in Sakaar," he choked out, still audibly struggling to draw in his breath. "It was a time he didn't even know you yet. You probably hadn't even been born."

"So you truly bear no knowledge of my husband's whereabouts?"

"Your hus--I thought he was--"

"Mind your words, charlatan god." He let out another groan of pure agony as you pressed harder on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry! I--I really don't know where he is, Your Highness, I don't--"

"Then what use are you to me," you said darkly, another corner of your soul feeling ass if the lights had gone out. Another dead end.

You took a dagger out with your free hand, the Grandmaster's pleas of mercy sounding muffled as they fell on your dulled ears. Nothing he had to say could spare him now; to you, he was no longer a lead, a well lit path that could perhaps point you to where Loki had been all this time.

Now he was simply a shadow of your husband's past. Something so dark that he didn't even dare let you know about it.

Despair began to seep into your veins, a single question overtaking all other remotely coherent thought. Would you ever find him? Would you ever get to apologize? To tell him how you felt? How you'd always felt?

Before you could strike, a loud crack resounded throughout the Grandmaster's suite, coming from a glowing green portal that appeared in the center of the room.

"I would probably take that call, if I were you," the Grandmaster quipped, exhaling a large sigh of relief when you removed the weight of Stormbreaker off of him as you stepped toward the portal. Once the threshold had begun to close after you stepped through, he let out a final sentiment. "Please say hello to your husband for me when you find him."

That was more than enough for you to decide throwing your dagger into the small opening that remained, hitting the smug anachronistic bastard on his uninjured shoulder.

Then the portal finally closed, leaving you in a place you couldn't quite describe. All you knew was that it felt like a place you should never have been allowed access to. A place that should be beyond you. Beyond anyone.

Winding, glowing vines surrounded you, each of them looked and sounded as if they were teeming with a life of its own. If you listened carefully you could hear voices. Your voices. Infinite iterations of them. But one rang clearer than every other in the entire space.

"Did I do something that angered the Norns so fiercely that they condemned me to love a man I could never have?"

"I know what it feels like to kiss him. To touch him. To be desired by him. And it's ripping me apart to know that I will never know that again."

"The people will look at this union and see it for what it is. Sinful. Shameful!"

You tried to block the memories out of your mind, of you begging your grandmother Queen Frigga to lock your memories away. Of arguing with your grandfather Odin and with your father Thor because they were signing your life away to marry Loki. Of the harsh words you spat at them all behind closed doors.

Of the day the lock on your mind finally broke, after finding your journals prior to the spell being cast chronicling how you'd fallen for the god despite your better judgment. The head-splitting agony of your memories reconciling and finding their place back in your mind.

An agony suffered in your lonesome while Loki was away on assignment.

You scrambled desperately to think of anything else, to follow along the path of the vines and hear something other than your own mistakes being echoed back at you. These desperate attempts made you realize that the vines converged in a structure that eerily resembled an image that you'd only learned about in your youth.

"Yggdrasil?" you whispered in awe, your feet bringing you closer still until you found a parting just large enough for one to squeeze through.

Once you'd finally freed yourself from the winding vines, all air left your lungs at the sight that greeted you. A golden throne at the heart of the tree. All the vines anchored to the man -- or God, rather -- seated in it.

Loki.

"You've left quite a trail of bodies in your wake throughout this quest of yours, little Princess," he spoke, not moving even a fraction from where he sat.

He gave you a soft smile, tears beginning to form in his eyes as he stared at you. As if he couldn't believe you were here with him.

"It's been too long, my darling wife."

You'd rehearsed time and time again throughout your search for your husband what you would say to him once you'd been reunited. You would tell him how wrong you were for how you behaved throughout your betrothal, your marriage. And you would abandon every shred of your pride and beg for his forgiveness. You would tell him you loved him, that you'd always loved him.

And that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

Yet somehow you could form none of those words. Instead you finally felt your body succumb to the tiredness brought about by the centuries you'd spent searching and laying waste to every imaginable corner of the Nine Realms and beyond for even the slightest shred of a clue as to where he could have been.

Instead you sunk to your knees, the tears streaming down your face as you stumbled over your words. "I remember everything. I had to find you. Tell you that I'm--"

"I know you are, my love. I watched you on the day the spell broke, the day you finally remembered. I wanted so desperately to come home to you. To not let you have to endure that pain alone."

"Why didn't you?" you blurted out, staring at all the vines he held in his hands. "What are all these?"

"Timelines," he answered you simply, giving you a minuscule shrug of his shoulders. "In every single one, there is an iteration of you and me. Some circumstances may differ, minor details. But at the heart of each of them, we live a life together. We find each other, fall in love. In some we even start a family."

"A family," you repeated breathlessly. The knowledge that each vine -- each timeline -- that was anchored to him held a variation of you and him, of your story, began to eat away at you, flooding you with guilt.

How wretched did you have to be that in your timeline you'd rejected him? Foolishly pushed him away with every mistake you made until finally it took you centuries to find him again?

"What happened?" you finally spoke after what felt like hours. "How did you get--"

"That is quite the long and harrowing tale, darling. In truth, it was a cavalcade of miscalculations and bad judgment calls, failed attempts of trying to save all these lives until I realized that the result would always stay the same if the equation contained the same variables."

"And what was that result?"

"Annihiliation," he answered you simply, giving you a misty eyed look. "Every single strand of time that I hold safe now would have been obliterated on sight. I know it. I've seen it. I've seen you disintegrate before me too many times than I wish to count. The device that once held them stable could no longer scale for an infinite number of possibilities, and letting countless timelines die in the name of the survival of a few was…unacceptable. The only thing that could carry a burden that great was--"

"A god," you finished, the words fighting you their entire way out, nearly choking you on the weight of them. The question that you wished to raise crippled you with its answer's implications. For you and your timeline specifically. "What happens if you let go?"

"It dies. Slowly. Drifts away until it eventually turns to ash." He began to make a motion, as if to approach you, until ultimately he decided against it. "This was the only way. It remains the only way. I must stay, and keep them safe. Watch our lives play out in derivatives of what ifs."

The selfish question that danced at the tip of your tongue plagued you with even more guilt. But what about my timeline? What about our life together? "There has to be another way," you grumbled, stubbornly shaking your head as if you were once again a toddler, refusing to accept the world for being what it was rather than what you wished it would be. "I could stay with you. I could stay and we can find a way together."

Your heart splintered watching him shake his head at you. "My beautiful headstrong wife," he breathed out, his tone filled with both fondness and heartbreak. "I can't in my good conscience let you abandon your life just so you could stay here with me. That would be too selfish, even for me. What would you have here?"

"You! I would have you. All these centuries I've spent in a desperate scramble to find you and tell you that I lo--" You found yourself completely choking on the words now, never having to articulate them before. "That I love you. That I've always loved you and I want us to start our lives together. I refuse to accept that after all this time I have to let you go. You can't make me."

"Asgard needs you, its future Queen."

"And I need you!" Your voice finally broke, sobs that you'd fought inside starting to bubble up. "It isn't fair that you hold all these different tellings of our story in your hands, but your story, yours and mine, ends in us apart. That you spend your days here, watching our life play out somewhere and somewhen else, and you're alone. Please don't send me away, husband," you began to beg. "Don't make me leave you. Let me stay."

He let out a sharp exhale, a tear escaping his eye, rolling down his cheek. "I've longed for the day I would hear you call me that," he sighed, a rueful smile gracing the handsome features that you were bereft of for centuries. "Truly I didn't think I would ever see you again, Y/N. My Y/N. I never thought that I would have you before me, and I hear those words you would only say in dreams with my own ears. Thank you, my dear heart. You have given me a gift in this quest of yours, in having a final moment with the woman I love…" More tears rolled down his cheeks when his smile widened before finishing his sentiment. "And the woman that loves me."

Your sobs filled the endless space, your body collapsing onto the ground as your grief overtook you. The notion of grieving for the living never seemed sensical to you until now. Now that the man, the god, you loved was calling this the last time you would ever see each other.

And you knew in your heart that with the power he wielded now, he could make that your reality without even lifting a finger. He could push you out of this void and back into any timeline of his choosing just as easily as he pulled you out of Sakaar.

The feel of familiar large hands pulling you up to your feet startled you, only having the briefest moment to look at your husband before he pulled you into a crushing embrace. You didn't think twice before wrapping your arms around him, holding him as close as you could and sobbing into his shoulder before realizing…

If his hands were on you, then why were the vines still in place?

"Loki," you sobbed. "Husband, please. No illusions."

"I can't hold you," he said, choking back his own sobs now. "I couldn't watch you break like this and do nothing." The duplicate he cast to hold you disappeared from your hold in a flash of green. "I've done it before against all my better judgment, I refuse to do it again."

"Then don't." Against your own better judgment, you stomped your foot, like a bratty child being told you had to go home. Which was almost precisely what this was. "If this is where you are and where you will remain, then this is where I wish to stay. With the god that owns my heart. With my husband." You blinked rapidly to expel the tears that blurred your vision before uttering the words that splintered at your heart even more. "I was made to be yours. You said that."

"And I yours," he finished, averting his gaze, letting his own tears drop to the fabric of  his trousers. "In every timeline. We must take solace in knowing that among these infinite tales, one is ours. What could have been ours."

"What should be ours," you insisted. You made your way over to him, placing your hand on the side of his face. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, the sight breaking your heart further. "Our story deserves its bliss-laden epilogue, too."

"Not at the cost of everyone else's. Deep down you know this to be true."

"That does not mean I accept it," you grumbled. "Let me stay."

"You know that I can't. I will not subject you to live out the rest of your days here. Without friends nor family, and only a husband that cannot even hold you as company."

"But at least you would have someone to hold you," you argued, throwing your arms around him and letting your tears flow once more. "I can't just leave you here all on your own. You can't make me." You knew that he damn right could.

"My love," he sighed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "I wish for you to live a long, and fulfilled life. You've lost so much time in your search for me only for it to end like this. I can give you those centuries back, as a final gift. Reverse the clock, undo the toll it took on you. Let this be the final token of my affection. My fealty. My undying vow."

"Let me keep my memories," you pleaded, already feeling that this would truly be your final moments with him. You did not need to turn your gaze to know that the portal leading back to Asgard was there, waiting for you. Perhaps he would simply nudge you through with his mind, knowing that you would refuse to leave. "Let me keep my remnants of you if that is all that I can leave this place with."

He nodded once. "Very well, little Princess. When you walk through the portal only the physical years will be stripped away. Live well, and remember always that I love you. My heart will only ever belong to you. Until the end of time."

"I love you," you choked out through your tears. "Husband." Your heart ached at the sight of his tears, not bothering to fight back the urge to kiss them away. "I will miss you desperately and always. In every step that I must take in this life without you."

"You will always have me by your side," he swore. "When you feel a presence you cannot see, in gentle breezes within a still room. I will always be there."

You continued to wipe his tears away, the god constantly kissing at your palms. Seemingly refusing to let you go, too.

"May I kiss you?" you asked, barely audibly, your voice unable to even completely form the words. "One last time?"

He gave you a small nod, and you leaned in to press your lips to his, trying to pour out your years of lost time and the future that you were doomed to lose in just a few short moments into that single kiss. You could feel that when he kissed you back, he did so with both all the love he'd never been able to give you before, and the love that he would never be able to bestow in the future.

It was a kiss of finality. A kiss of goodbye. A bittersweet final page in the story of you and Loki.

I love you more than words can ever say, his voice echoed in your mind. Goodbye, my love. My fated. My darling wife.

When you pulled away he was gone. And you'd been returned to your shared chambers back in Asgard. As he promised, the physical toll the centuries-long search had taken on your body were gone. No more scars from miscalculated skirmishes. No more bruises from Sakaar.

No more physical reminders of what you'd endured trying to reunite with the love your life.

All that remained were the memories of those years, and your time in his domain beyond the Realms.

"Goodbye, my darling husband. My love. My Loki," you whispered into the quiet of your marital chambers, sinking to your knees once more and letting out a shriek of pure agony, the sobs swiftly returning and wracking your entire body as you lay pathetically on the floor.

"Y/N??"

The sound of your mother Lady Sif's voice provided little comfort, but it felt like a familiar balm. "Mother," you said weakly, unmoving from your spot on the ground even as she rushed to you, cradling you in her lap.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" She stroked your hair while your tears soaked her sleep dress. You felt her wave someone over, and moments later you felt your grandmother Queen Frigga's presence in the room with you.

"I lost. I lost and I know not what to do now," you managed to say through your tears.

"What did you lose, Daughter?"

You'd briefly considered explaining your journey, from breaking the spell, to your journey through the centuries, to Loki's domain beyond the reach of space and time. To relay what had become of your husband.

Ultimately the words were beyond you due to your grief.

"Everything," you answered her, holding on to her tight as if you were a child again. This would be the only semblance of comfort you would have. "I lost everything."

A/N: I had to after that finale had me processing and feeling the big sad all day, I promise I'm working on 2 other stories based on the finale that have kinda better endings.

Also I sobbed throughout writing this entire thing, just for the record.

Now here's the song to add to the vibe:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

[angelatsumu]

happy halloween <3 ft. simon <3

your husband simon has never been the type to enjoy costumes and "crossplaying"--he misunderstood the term cosplay and argues with you when you correct him--but seeing your face light up when you suggested he be the Darth Vader to your Padme made him cave. every year is the same, truly. you scroll on Pinterest and find a "cute couple costume babyyyy" and you pout up at him, and suddenly he's dressed as some goddamned masked character from a show or movie he'd never seen. last year--through teary eyes and cunt full of cock--you asked him to be the Iron Man to your Pepper Pots. through the haze of his desire he'd mumbled an agreement. this year you were so kind as to ask him before he'd been balls deep inside of you. your look was just the same, bashful and full of wonder. your husband would give you a kidney, so of course he doesn't draw the line here.

so, here you were on Halloween night seated on your silly little porch waiting for trick-or-treaters. he's fingering through the buckets of candy in search of another sour one when you swat his hand away, eyes glaring at him. he gruffs at you, muttering like a damn child while he places them down and steps away. "this is silly," he comments mostly to himself, thinking about how easily he lets his sweet little wife boss him around during this time of year. you're beaming though, and he can't help but feel his heart strings tugged when he catches a glimpse of you happily rearranging your costume as trick-or-treaters approach. you giddily run over to your husband, dragging him to the front of the porch to greet the newcomers.

A pink tint dusts your husband's cheeks as he relishes in the excited gasps and giggles from the children as they grasp at candy and cheer about his costume. he's always been uncomfortable with such innocent attention, but he can't lie about how loved it makes him feel to step into this Pickett fence life with you. the little ones run off with a rushed goodbye, cheering for your husband once more, and Simon pulls you in close to have you place chaste and gentle kisses along his lovely costumed face.

likes + rbs appreciated <3

[goblinontour]

Santa Baby

some christmas fun with your husband after the kids go to sleep

warnings: husband!dad!alex, fluff, smut, piv, roleplay (kinda?), body insecurity (a bit)

word count: 2.3k

it was the first christmas you would be spending alone as a family and it was already a big mess. your two kids had been going crazy for the last few days about how they can’t wait to see santa, to meet him. and you couldn’t break it to them that santa wasn’t real, obviously, they were still little.

but it was too late to hire someone to come dressed as santa, it was already christmas eve. the only solution you could come up with was for your husband to dress as santa. he was reluctant at first saying they would know it’s him but you begged him and he agreed, eventually. he spent god knows how long until he finally found an open store that had a costume and he was getting a bit excited now, couldn’t wait to see how the little ones’ faces would light up.

your house was decorated like one you’d see in movies. you were a sucker for christmas and loved to place all the lights all over the house and this time the babies were old enough to participate in decorating the christmas tree. alex wasn’t the biggest fan, but he loved seeing you all happy from those silly things, and his heart was full with joy watching the little angels you two created, your family finally complete. well, maybe not fully, you continued to beg him to get a cat but he was putting it off saying he’s ’allergic’. liar. you know he’ll cave soon enough.

so time for santa to come was here, you brought the kids to the living room and they went nuts saying they can’t believe santa’s there for them and that he’s real. you were struggling so much not to laugh at alex all dressed up with the cheapest looking white beard on his face and a pillow stuffed under that to make it all the more accurate, even though he had a bit of a belly himself, being off from touring left a mark on his body, the once lean stomach he had now soft and squishy. he got insecure about it sometimes, but you assured him that you don’t mind it at all, making sure to tell him you fucking love it. it was so nice to lie on him and feel him so plump.

it went down perfectly after all, your heart melting as you watched him try to change his voice to make fantasy come true. they did ask where daddy was but you fooled them saying he was tired and already asleep, waiting till the morning to open santa’s gifts. and they were too young to question it. they agreed on opening the presents in the morning with daddy there as well, but they were happy they met santa.

soon enough they grew tired and you put them to bed, reading a little christmas bedtime story, and you caught them dozing off after only a few minutes, before they could hear the end of it. you gave them both a kiss goodnight and went downstairs to your husband to spend the rest of the evening together.

he’d removed the pillow from under his top and taken off the fake beard, but now he was scratching his face desperately.

“al stop it!” you told him off.

“what?!” he questioned, looking annoyed and irritated.

“you’ll give yourself an ugly rash if you keep scratching like that.” you said to him, not wanting to hear him complain about the marks later.

“it’s fucking itchy. ‘s your fault for making me do this.” he complained, pointing at his costume, but you knew he didn’t truly mean it.

“shut up. i know you loved it.”

“of course i did. just because i love the kids” he confessed “and you” he added, making sure you know it. “come here baby” calling out for you and putting his hand out for you to grab, and once you did he quickly pulled you onto his lap, taking you by surprise with how eager he was to hold you. and he grabbed your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him.

“now, why don’t you tell santa…have you been a good girl?” he said in a low tone, leaning down to kiss you softly, but quickly deepening it by grabbing your jaw and angling better towards him so he could slip his tongue into your mouth, dancing with yours in perfect sync. his mood was now vastly different to how he just acted a few minutes before.

“alexxx, what’s gotten into you?” you giggled as he started kissing down your neck, his own stubble ticking you and his hands slipped under your pyjama shirt, rubbing up and down your side.

“you won’t get a present if you’re not a good girl, answer me.” he pushed, nudging his nose into the crook of your neck, loving having you so close, taking in your scent. he said it was even better than the baby skin scent that you both got addicted to aftee having your first little one.

“yes, i was indeed a good girl this year, don’t you know it already?” you played into the little game he started.

“i don’t in fact. and i don’t believe you. why don’t you prove yourself?” you knew what he was getting at, you could feel him growing hard under you even through that thick costume. you moved so you get into a position where you could feel him better, and you started grinding your ass into his growing erection, evoking a grunt from him.

“good girls don’t tease” he warned, grabbing your face again, slapping it playfully a few times, very soft.

you moved, got up in front of him and stripped, taking off your clothes in the most seductive way you could, although you were wearing some christmas patterned pyjamas, and it was a bit silly. but you tried your best and knew he still loved you and would take you regardless of what you were wearing. you turned around so your back was facing him and you put your ass out, wiggling it for him and looking at him over your shoulder, smirking once you noticed the tent in his pants.

“i said no teasing baby.” he grabbed you by your hips and pushed you down on him again. he was fully hard, you could feel him perfectly as your bare cunt was rubbing on his dick over his pants.

by now you yourself were aching for it, wet in anticipation, and you knew those pants were already ruined by your juices dripping onto them.

he started grinding his hips and one of his hands went to play with your breast, kneading it in his palm and pinching your nipple every now and then.

roles have switched, he was now teasing you by also bringing his hand down between your legs, his fingers ghosting over your wet pussy, and he started by gathering the arousal from your hole, bringing it up to your clit and rubbing gentle circles that were simply not enough. you were whining and in painful need for more.

“please alex…need you.” you cried out

“what do you need darling?” fucking hell. he was going to make you beg for it, his fingers teasing your hole now, only the very tips slipping in and you moaned as he bit down on your neck, in that spot that made you go crazy for him.

“you baby please. your girl needs your cock now.”

“my girl mhmm…that’s right.” he hummed, pleased with how much you grew to need him so quickly. “then you better be a good girl and take it nice and deep, yeah?”

“yes, i promise.” you said before he even got a chance to finish his sentence, so eager. you needed him right now.

he moved his hand from your breast, snaking it around your waist to hold you tight in place, his other one leaving your pussy. he slipped it between your bodies, going under you, grabbing your ass and lifting you up just a bit so he could push his pants down, together with his underwear, leaving them to fall down to his ankles and rest there, not bothering to slip them off completely with his feet.

he took a hold of his hard cock, brushing the aching tip with his thumb, spreading the precum gathered there down his length, pumping himself a few times before lining it up with your entrance. he played with you once more, holding you so tight that you couldn’t just sink down on him, teasing your empty hole by pushing in just the tip, wanting to hear you beg for it again.

“al fuck me already, this is torture.” you complained to him, you needed him so fucking bad.

“ask nicely…how a truly good girl would say it.”

“santa baby, please fuck me now, please i need you inside me-“

before you could continue to beg him further, and you would’ve, he took a hold of your hips and lowered you down on his cock, both of you moaning in sink at the way it felt. you because of how good he felt finally being inside you, and him because of how your perfect hole took him in, moulded to him, forever just for him.

you started to grind on him, rolling your hips, loving the way he filled you up, but apparently it wasn’t enough for him. he held you by the hips again and started bucking his hips up, and you met his thrust by moving with him. he was so desperate, grunts leaving his throat continuously, combining in a lovely way with your own moans and whimpers. and god how much did the sound of his belly slapping your ass with each one of his hard thrusts turn you on and drive you crazy for him.

but he suddenly stopped and grunted as if defeated and disappointed, and you didn’t know what happened.

“what’s wrong alex?” you questioned, genuinely confused.

“‘s not deep enough. not like it used to, my big fucking belly’s in the way.” he complained, and you looked back at him over your shoulder only to see his face adorned by that little pout he does. he was like a kid mad at his parents cause he couldn’t eat candy before bed. you couldn’t help but laugh softly at how truly sad he looked.

“alex your belly’s so fucking hot stop complaining and fuck me.” you said to him, it hurt you to see him upset over that, but right now you really needed him to fuck you. “is it not good for you?”

“no, it is, but i was worried about you…’s not like it used to, do you even like it?”

“oh baby…you fuck me so good and i love your belly, i’m not just saying it please believe me now” you assured him.

“okay love, fuck you good right?” he seemed back into it, leaving his insecurities out of it for now.

“mhm, so good, you always do” you continued.

he started fucking into you again, this time slow and as deep as he could, he knew you loved it slow and honestly he was tired, the thick costume making him feel too hot.

it was absolutely delicious like that, how you would feel his plump fat head rubbing inside and hitting that spot that made you see stars just perfectly, despite what he said about it ‘not being deep enough’. he was just stupid.

his hand on your waist went to your mouth momentarily. “spit on ‘em baby, get them nice and wet.” he demanded, and you complied instantly, lowering your head to suck on the fingers he put up first, rubbing your tongue along them, tasting yourself from earlier. he slipped them out and you spit on them like he asked. he licked his lips and bit down on the bottom one as he felt your spit running down his fingers. he then brought them back down to rub your clit again, circling it just perfectly, your spit making them slip around just right on the sensitive nub.

you were so close, so was he, you could tell from how he was panting heavily as he continued to fuck into you, biting down on your naked shoulder harshly, making you hiss from the pain but the pleasure drowned it out, far greater than the temporary burn on your skin.

the moment his fingers pushed on your clit just right and he hit that spot deep inside you at the same time was it for you. you came all over his cock and he continued to push you through your orgasm, not giving up his movements on your clit, though his hips were faltering from how you were squeezing his cock so tightly. he fell apart not long after, your still sensitive and pulsating pussy milking him as he came, his warm cum deep inside you filling you up, coating and soothing your used hole.

he laid back on the chair, trying desperately to catch his breath, and you collapsed over him instantly, too fucked out to hold yourself up, his now softening cock still buried inside you.

“wait a second honey, just-“ he pushed you off him so he could take the dumb costume top off once and for all. “don’t know why the fuck i kept that on.” he laughed.

“well, now i can say i fucked santa, right?” you joked, pressing your back against his bare chest, loving the soft sweaty skin sticking to your back.

“that’s right baby” kissing the side of your face and rubbing his face against yours.

“it tickles stop ittt.” you tried to squirm away from his stubbly face but he hugged you tight so you couldn’t get away.

“i love you fucking so much, my girl…my wife…still can’t believe how lucky i got” he confessed.

“i love you forevermore.”

a/n: merry christmas i guess! i literally wrote this impulsively at the christmas family dinner…yeah. enjoy!

tags: @4chaos @picturezonthewall @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @whitepontiac @ohladymoon @rentsturner

[buckets-and-trees]

As one of the Christmas presents, your Alpha promises to fulfill one of your fantasies, or introduce you to a kink you secretly wanted to try. What is it and how he's going about it? Does he surprise you with it? Or did you plan to make a special night of it?

Okay, not an alpha, but...

well...

I couldn't get this idea out of my head...

Fandom: Chris Evans Characters Title: Make Her Glow Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 986

Content Warnings: bondage, established coerced marriage, breeding kink

Logistical Notes: I think technically this is ... going to be a collection now. Sequel to I'm Your Man and a moment from their honeymoon. I just can't resist this Andy (and neither can you, dear reader).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The domestic elements were incredibly important to Andy. He knew they were vital to building a happy, long-lasting relationship between husband and wife, and he wanted nothing less than that for both of you. Putting up the Christmas tree had been something he’d insisted on doing together, just the two of you, the day after Thanksgiving.

He’d driven the pair of you to the nicest tree lot, walked around holding your hand until he knew the two of you had found a tree you truly liked, then paid to have it delivered to your home after lunch. He had you direct the delivery men to put it exactly where you wanted it. He had helped you string it with lights, then decorate with garland and ornaments. You were still guarded – he had broken down many, but not all, of your walls, but it had been a good day.

But by far the most valuable thing from putting up the tree together had been the lights. He saw sheer, unadulterated delight shine through your eyes the first time they lit up. It was the passion he’d seen on your face so frequently during the first weeks he knew you – it’s what made him know he had to have you, and he loved seeing it again.

Each night, you had very easily let him hold you on the couch, all the other lights off, and sit together in the glow from the white lights of the tree. He had pulled so much more out of you each of those nights – memories, wants, dreams, worries.

He always knew you would work.

He knew you knew the two of your would work.

The soft glow of those lights had made you impossibly softer and warmer to him, and he fucking loved it.

But he hadn’t exploited that knowledge until tonight.

Having finally sent all the house guests home, you were turning off all the lights, and about to collapse onto the couch, but he intercepted you a step away from your destination, and tugged you gently upstairs. You knew not to fight him.

He knows you don’t want to fight him; you’re only holding onto small pieces of resisting him because he’s slowly been disarming every last piece of you, making you more and more vulnerable to becoming completely swept away by him.

He closes the bedroom door and then leads you to the bed. He slowly unzips your simple but beautiful party dress from behind, and you shrug it down your shoulders. He presses a kiss between your shoulder blades, and you can’t suppress a shiver. Then he unclasps your bra, and you let that fall to the floor, too. He slides a finger into the waistband of your lacey underwear on either side of your hips and pulls them gently down. You step out of them without direction.

He spanks you, just once, but it elicits the short, gasping moan he loves to draw from you.

“Up on the bed now,” he instructs.

“Yes, Andy,” your voice is soft, and you crawl up obediently.

“On your back in the middle of the mattress.”

As you move into place, you watch him, and he reaches for a box he left under the bed a few hours earlier.

Andy places the box on the bedside table, and first pulls out a thick, forest green satin ribbon.

He climbs up on the bed next to you. “Hold up your hands, wrists together for me.”

Despite everything else up to this point, he’s never physically bound you before.

Although he can see the evidence of your breathing speed up with the rise and fall of your chest, he’s incredibly pleased that you do exactly as he says, surrendering without a fuss. He wraps the ribbon around your wrists and forearms, then strokes your cheek. “Such a good girl for me.”

He moves back to the box, pulls out one end of the string, plugs it into the socket, and you gasp as a full string of white lights comes to life. Andy smiles and turns off the rest of the lights in the room.

Ten minutes later when he’s wrapped the lights around your arms – right over where the ribbons were first placed because he did want to protect your precious skin from being uncomfortable – and then bound you up to the headboard, where he strung the rest of the lights back and forth between the bedposts, and emerges naked from the large master closet, he fully appreciates the warm glow of the lights just as you have the lights from the tree. He more than gets it now.

Joining you once more on the bed, he runs his hands up your thighs, then guides them open and kneels between them.

“You’re so pretty like this, wife.”

You’re wet for him. Waiting for him.

“You want one more Christmas gift?” he asks, his eyes moving up your body to meet your eyes.

You let out a small, whimpered, “Yes,” and he smiles again. “Please,” you add.

“And I think it’s time we start really working on one more gift for me,” he says. He moves one hand to your hip and places the other solidly over your womb. “I’m done waiting to see you growing with my child, and it’s too perfect that you’re ovulating.”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens just a little.

He smirks. “You think I really wouldn’t know something like that? Well, if you’re going to act dumb, I’ll just oblige and fuck you dumb. But, goddamn, you should know how perfect and beautiful you look for me just like this. Glowing under these lights? Perfection."

He leans down to kiss you. His lips move against yours, easily, he licks into your mouth, and you moan. He doesn't relent until you're breathless, and arching up beneath him.

"Now let’s make it so you glow for another reason.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I make no apologies for this.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

To Love and To Cherish (II)

Part 10 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series!

Warnings: CNC, oral (f), knife play (he fucks her with the hilt of his knife), bondage, threats, chasing, creepy phonecalls, mild mirror sex, somnophilia, anxiety, fear, angst, cliffhanger.

A/N: Please keep in mind that though this is dark play, everything has been discussed and even practised in advance and is fully consensual.

Hehe

@icannotbetrustedalone 😘

A late lunch is brought to your door after you wake up. You have no idea how Sam knew you were awake, perhaps she'd timed your jet lag that well.

She tells you to enjoy, that her team will be here around dusk to get you dressed for your date.

You smile at that word, knowing that she had no real clue what your husband was really up to.

Later in the day, there’s a knock on your door.

You open it to Sam, with her binder, looking eager.

“Are you ready?” She asks with a smile.

When you nod and open the door wider, she turns her head and nods too, and you blink in surprise when four other women follow her into your room with a lot of different things in hand.

You spot a garment bag, and a makeup kit, another bag has a hair curler sticking out.

They introduce themselves, their specialties are in hairstyles, makeup and nails.

You're out of your depth and you say so, glancing over at Sam for some kind of help.

“Don't worry, we already know what to do based off your preferences.” She explains, “You just have to sit back and enjoy being pampered.”

You guess you could try.

When they're done, you're surprised to see so much of yourself there.

There's a lovely little tiara on your head, your hair in a delicate updo with strands framing your face. The dress- is beyond beautiful, white shimmering fabric, an off shoulder design that makes you feel like a princess.

Your fingers and toes are freshly done in a dark red like you'd requested, so that they can match the red on your lips.

There's a small heel on your silver shoes- safe to run in while still being pretty.

“You guys are amazing.” You say in wonder as you fully assess yourself.

They laugh, happy that you're satisfied.

Sam presents one final thing to you, the one odd thing you'd asked for that wasn't in your binder.

You grin at her, ducking into the ensuite bathroom and tugging the garter out of the box, sliding it on. 

There's a small knife attached to it, and you make sure it's concealed, and easily reachable through the slit in your dress before you step out again.

When they’re finished with some last minute makeup retouches, Sam smiles proudly, and wishes you a very good night, letting you know that they’ll all be leaving you soon, here alone with your husband. 

You can’t help the excited pulse your nether regions give at the reminder, dressed pristinely from head to toe, all for Billy to tear off.

You grin at Sam, walking the small group of women to the door, listening quietly to their plans for the night, encouraging and enjoying their banter, sending them off with a wave into a car waiting for them.

The heavy wooden door closes with a dull sound that echoes through the castle, emphasising your desolation.

You turn, leaning against the door in your shimmery dress, taking in the quiet silence of the place.

There’s a little bit of fear tingling down your spine, the feeling of being truly alone in such a big place, not really knowing where you are, with no means of escape.

You find that it turns you on.

All dressed up, all for him, and you can’t even really leave, a headiness to the realisation, your fear is an aphrodisiac all on its own.

You bite down on the corner of your lip, smiling, pushing yourself away from the door, and decidedly picking a direction to begin your exploration.

You touch everything you see, trailing your freshly done fingertips over every item, examining the feel, appreciating the textures.

The curtains, the lighting fixtures, you examine all of it, a crown on your head that makes you almost feel like you own it all.

You get into the fantasy he’s weaved, becoming the role of the princess he’s cast you in.

You find the throne room first, a flourish of plum and golds, a large red carpet leading to the thrones in question- two- sitting side by side, beckoning you closer. 

You squint, looking up at the massive chandelier that sits in the middle of the room, with little pieces of glass that if cleaned properly, would probably reflect little shards of light. 

You pick the chair on the right, and settle yourself onto it, sighing happily at how comfortable it is, relaxing for a moment, before standing to continue your exploration.

You’re passing the dining room when a phone begins to ring in the distance.

It sends a shiver of fear over you, the dated sound echoing through the halls. You begin searching for it, following the rings of what you assume is an old era phone.

You find the phone on a table at the bottom of the staircase, ruby red, sitting beside a marble statue of a woman, posed with her hand in the air as if to block the light from her eyes.

It keeps ringing until you tentatively pick it up, bringing it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say softly into it.

There’s a voice on the other end, modulated to be unrecognizeable to you, but even that sends a shiver of excitement through you.

“Princess.” The voice says calmly.

You swallow.

“Who is this?”

The voice is deep, each grovel is a tremor in your body.

“I’m just a nightmare, sweetheart. I hope you’re ready for me.”

You shudder, shaking your head.

“Ready for what?”

He doesn’t answer your question.

“You look gorgeous. Prettier than I expected. It’s making me… want.”

You stiffen, taking a breath and looking around, searching the shadows for some sign of a man, lurking in the darkness.

“You can see me?” You ask in a soft whisper, laying the fear on thickly.

“Of course, princess. I’ll be inside soon, we’ll get a nice, long introduction to each other.”

You gasp in surprise, dropping the phone and moving quickly to the doors you passed during your exploration, making sure that they’re locked.

Your hand is on the door separating the kitchen from the gardens- when the lights go out.

You hear your own breath of surprise, your heart pattering in your chest, real fear being awakened inside of you when you realise that this is actually happening.

Everything is still, you’re afraid to move, the darkness becoming honey thick all around you.

Eventually, being still is too much, and you have to force your body to break the stillness around you.

There’s barely a sliver of light, the moon, casting pale streams through the windows. Instinct tells you to stay where you can see, your body backed against the window, eyes peering into the darkness as if it’s alive and coming for you.

You glance down when something shimmery catches your eye, gasping, you realise that the moonlight makes you a bigger target, your dress reflecting its beams in every direction.

It leaves you no choice but to step into the darkness.

You wonder where he is, if hands will just reach out and grab you at any given moment.

It makes your stomach tight, that what you’ve been yearning for is almost within reach.

“Hello?” You call out shyly, voice shaking just a little. You walk softly out of the kitchen, one hand against the wall to guide you, unsure of exactly where you’re going.

Suddenly, a chill runs over the back of your neck, like a soft breath from someone standing just behind you. You turn, waving your hand into the darkness, and finding nothing but air.

You feel so much like prey in that moment, searching for a predator with hunting skills beyond your comprehension.

You’re passing the dining room when your heart freezes in your chest. In the corner of your eye, you can see the silhouette of a dark figure, standing in the moonlit window.

Your breath halts in your throat, turning to face him, the swishing of your dress is louder in your ears.

The mask is- terrifying- white, with the appearance of fractured glass across it, some pieces missing over the cheek area, his real face peeking through.

He raises a hand, and presses a gloved finger to the mouth of the mask.

You turn, and run.

Fuck, this was it, it was really happening. He was here, and he was going to do all the things he promised he would, all the things you’d practised together so that he was sure you were always one hundred percent safe and comfortable.

You’re not very fast, the dress and heels slowing you down

He grabs you at the very moment the lights flick on.

It takes a moment for your eyes to get adjusted, and then you gasp when your back is slammed to a wooden wall behind you, the intricate carvings pressing uncomfortably to your spine.

His hands are on your shoulders, keeping you in place as you look up at him with fear in your eyes.

You finally get a chance to see him fully, all masked up, covered from head to toe in what can only be the most mouth watering look on the planet.

Sure, his suits were divine, but seeing him dressed down like this was a cherry on top of a malevolent cake.

It clings to his skin, the cut of his chest and arms showing through the tight, long- sleeved shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of navy combat pants, and further into boots.

It’s much easier to note where you can see his skin- on his wrists between the sleeve and the glove, his neck, and parts of his face that show through the fractured pieces of his mask.

He’s a work of devastating art, lust incarnate, bringing forth so much delight that you struggle to hide it.

“Please,” you whisper shakily, getting into character, feeling it spark arousal, “Don't hurt me.”

You watch the darkness clouds his eyes, a predator, hidden beneath layers of humanity, finally being set free.

“Oh, princess,” he whispers, leaning in, trailing his gloved thumb over your jaw and cheekbone lovingly, “I am definitely going to hurt you.” 

You gasp at his words, reaching for the weapon strapped to your thigh. It was your turn to give him a surprise.

The dagger is sharp, you made sure of it, wanted it to be real, you wanted to see a genuine look of surprise in his eyes when you finally pressed it to his neck.

Except, he doesn't look surprised at all.

“Leave.” You say, with so much command in your voice that you almost believe you have the power to say something like that to him.

He studies you for a lengthy moment, before he tilts his head back and lets out a deep laugh, and even that, works to seduce you.

His hold is an iron grip on your wrist, and it was a mistake letting him grab you, he’s too strong, and no matter how hard you struggle, you can’t get your hand back.

“This knife is pathetic, princess.” He grabs the hilt, twisting it so that you’re forced to release it or have your wrist twisted too, it clatters loudly in the empty space.

“Is that all you have to fight me off with? No wonder this is so easy.”

You exhale angrily, trying to push him away, your freshly done nails digging into his arms.

He grips your hands, pulling them above your head and pinning them there with one of his.

A soft sound of distress leaves your lips, struggling to get away but your dress is too much of a hindrance, keeping your legs pressed in one place when he moves closer.

“Here, why don’t I show you mine?” He murmurs, reaching with his free hand to pull a significantly larger knife out of his boot.

You gulp, eyeing it wearily as he rubs the handle roughly against your cheek, the hilt is coated in a rubber, with indents to help with grip. He slides it around till it’s pressed to your lips, smearing your lipstick, you angle your head away to avoid it.

“I’m going to fuck you with this,” He promises, leaning in till the mouth of his mask is on your ear,  “Gonna use it to get you ready for my cock.”

“No.” you murmur weakly.

“No?” He teases, “Well why don’t you try stopping me then?” He murmurs, pulling back a little to free you from his hold.

You’re surprised to be free, knowing that it’s just a trick, knowing that he wants to chase you. 

You keep your eyes on his form, watching him observe you as you slowly back away.

“Go on, princess,” He says in such a condescending tone that your knees wobble, “Run away from me.”

When you're far enough away that you know he won't grab you, you turn, pulling your skirts up a little so that you can run.

Heart pounding in your chest you have no idea where you're going or what your plan is beyond running away. You couldn't very well hide in a dress that glimmers when you breathe, you couldn't fight- all you really had in your arsenal was your capacity to get him angrier.

With that in mind, you grab the first heavy thing you can find- the telephone directory- turning and chucking it in his approximate vicinity.

It doesn't slow him down at all, because he grabs your wrist in the next second, pulling you into him.

“No!” You exclaim, swiping your nails across his mask, knocking it askew so that he can't see.

You’re not proud of how hard you stomp his foot next, watching him double over with a low grunt, allowing you to get some distance. 

The phone, you decide, angling your run to get you to the base of the main stairs.

You just make it to the phone- grabbing the glossy handset and raising it to your ear- before he grabs it roughly from you, reaching behind to rip all the important wires out of the back.

You almost can’t do it, wanting to drop to your knees right there and beg him to take you- but you know that deep down you had to see this fantasy fully play out.

He’s angry now, and he shows it by grabbing the entire phone and slamming it to the floor while you watch, backing away in horror, his sleek boot slamming the broken pieces until it’s nothing but ruby shards.

“Who were you going to call, princess? You don’t even know where you are.”

Jesus, you think, helplessly aroused.

The next time you turn away, he wraps an arm around your waist and picks you up.

You kick your feet in protest, scratching at his arms, trying to pry his iron grip off of you but it’s no help, you grunt, and you kick and you wriggle and still he drags your body wherever.

He drops you below the chandelier of the throne room. 

It glitters in your eyes as you try to catch your bearings, sitting up you watch him grab a length of rope from his belt.

You try to scramble back but your dress catches under your feet, making you slip, falling back even more.

He grips one of your wrists while you’re disoriented, and you feel the rope wrap tightly around it. You try to push him off, but he just catches your other hand, wrapping them securely in front of you, knotting them easily.

He stands, and with a strong arm, throws the other end of the rope through a support rung of the chandelier, catching it as it swings toward him.

Then, he pulls, forcing you up onto your knees, your hands suspended in the air, as he moves to secure the rope to the throne nearby.

You struggle, trying to tug your way out, your legs tangled in your dress, stopping you from standing.

“I wouldn’t.” He warns softly, “Pull too hard and it might fall, carving up that pretty body before I’m done.”

He kneels beside you, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

“That would make me, real upset.” He breathes through the mask.

“P-lease.” You beg, turning your head to look at him, relaxing when you realise there was no escaping without hurting yourself.

“God, you're so pretty.” He trails a gloved hand over your cheek, down your chest, the leather is smooth on your skin, you shiver when his hand reaches the top of your dress.

“I almost don't want to hurt you.” his hand smooths over the front of the dress, slipping lower to gently untangle the skirts from your legs, you adjust to let him do so, thinking that it will allow you to stand up.

You turn your head to look at him, examining his eyes through the mask, the way they linger on your body, you don’t even realise what’s been done until you feel his gloved hand slip under your panties and press right to your clit.

The friction is delicious, the smooth leather providing an interesting feel between your thighs. You look down, realising he’s used the high slit of your dress to get under your skirts easily.

“Don’t.” You beg, trying to inch away, “Please.”

“I don’t fucking care what you want, princess.” He grits out harshly, his finger pressing down more firmly, slipping from side to side, the pleasure, trying to force you to shut down your resistance.

“I’m here to steal from you, and I’m going to take everything I want.”

Your breaths become shallow when his finger starts circling your aching bud, you’ve been denying yourself for so long that you feel the sweet burn of pleasure the longer he does it.

You can even feel how wet you are, in the fluidness of his movements. He breathes into your ear, and you find yourself leaning into him to take the weight off of your knees.

“Don’t do this,” You murmur weakly, “Please I’ll do anything.”

He laughs in your ear, slowing his movements to torment you.

“I’m doing you a favour, sweetheart, you should be grateful. At least I have the decency to let you cum before I fuck you with my knife.”

You make a sound of protest, angling away from him.

“No!” You cry.

He doesn’t let you move far, gripping the back of your head, till it’s tilted back, hands suspended above you, his fingers resume their fast movement on your clit.

He’s dextrous, even with gloves on, you can feel the micromovements that succeed in bringing you right up to that edge even faster.

Your eyes roll back in your head, surprised that he’s got you right on edge so soon, though you know you shouldn’t be, this is your husband after all, he knows exactly how to get you off.

The weeks of denial burn, your body not accustomed to orgasm needs an extra push getting there, he presses down even firmer, speeding up.

You groan, unable to stop it, or resist it, your stomach clenched tight with nothing in sight but the precipice of orgasm.

Don’t stop, you beg internally, please don’t stop.

It’s a hollow thing, but strong nonetheless. You breathe shallowly through gritted teeth as you reach your peak, thighs trembling, as you rut yourself helplessly on his gloved fingers.

Too good, needing just a little bit more, thighs sticky with your orgasm, his fingers growing even more messy as you come.

Your vision whites out for a moment, senses evaporating temporarily, you come back to the sound of your own panting, heavy in the room.

You don’t get a chance to look over at him with desperate eyes, he pulls his hand from between your thighs and promptly shoves his drenched fingers into your mouth.

You hum in protest, trying to pull away, but he’s still got that iron grip on the back of your head.

“Taste that slutty little cunt, princess. Remember how wet you get for me when you’re begging me to stop later.”

You can only grunt your denial, with his fingers in your mouth, the taste of leather and your arousal making its point on your tongue.

When he draws his hand back, they come out with heavy strings of saliva that cling to your bottom lip.

“You’ll pay for this.” You whisper hoarsely, your head hanging low. Your arms start to ache a little from the way they’re held above your head.

It’s the wrong thing to say, he grips your hair once more, tugging your head back to an almost uncomfortable position.

“What was that?”

You make a little sound at the way he manhandles you, tilting your head, you look him in the face.

“I said, ‘You'll pay for this.”

He studies you slowly, you watch his eyes flicker as he studies your face. You curl your hands into fists, hoping he lets you down soon.

His laughter doesn't surprise you, but it does make your stomach twist.

“Yeah? Who’s gonna make me pay? You?” He says between small sounds of amusement, reaching back, he pulls the knife from before out of his pocket.

You eye it warily, as he brings the blade up to your line of sight, you swallow, trying to breathe as you examine the wicked edge of the serrated blade.

You go perfectly still when the cool metal of the blade touches your cheek.

“You might be a pretty little thing, but you have no power to make me pay. You’re all mine to do what I want. You can’t stop me.”

You whine pitifully, knowing that his words were true.

He reaches up, cutting the rope and guiding your hands into your lap. By now, they tingle, almost numb but not quite, you sigh in relief, watching him quietly squeeze your arms.

“Don’t be scared,” He says, surprisingly soft for someone who was just running the sharp edge of a knife over your cheek, “I'm sure you'll learn to love taking my cock. Maybe with time, you'll beg me for it.”

“Go to hell.” You utter with as much venom as you can muster.

Behind the mask, you hear his laugh, watching the way he lowers his hand, flipping the knife around so that the hilt points toward you.

You lean away, your dress glittering as you move, feeble bound arms raising to push his hand back as he draws closer.

You don’t get far in stopping him, and in the next moment, you feel the hilt of his blade pressed between your thighs.

Fuck, this was too good.

Your head tips back in bliss, torn between fighting him and begging him to just take you in any way he wanted.

Your husband, the man you loved with almost every atom in your body.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You whisper on a shaky breath, turning to look at him.

Behind the mask, he huffs, the hand in your hair wraps neatly around your throat.

Pulling you close, looking into your eyes, you can hear his angry breaths behind his mask.

He wriggles the hilt of his knife against your cunt, pleasure swelling in your head at the very touch.

He stands suddenly, sheathing his knife, grips your arm to haul you up. Your legs wobble, almost giving out beneath you before he’s wrapping his hands around your hips to lift you.

With your hands tied together, there’s nothing more you can do than wiggle, shifting your body this way and that, but he doesn’t say a word, dropping you onto one of the thrones in the next moment.

He grabs the rope that's tied to the throne- the one that had been used to pull you onto your knees just moments before- and uses it to secure each hand to either side of you.

You kick your foot out at him, and he simply grabs your ankle, gloved hand trailing up to your thigh for a moment before he bends your knee, pulling your leg over the arm of the throne, and securing your ankle to a point somewhere between the base and the foot that you can't really see.

From there, it's over for you, your other foot is caught just as swiftly, and the next thing you know, you’re tied securely to the throne with your legs opened wide, draped across the arms of the intricately carved seat.

He's silent for a moment, appreciating his work, you tug at the restraints to further reinforce his satisfaction that you can't move.

“Damn. You look like a work of art.”

You frown up at him.

He leans over you, and you finally understand the versatility he has with you in this position. He could fuck your cunt, or your mouth, or even your breasts if he so wanted and you couldn't do a damn thing.

He grips your jaw with one hand, tilting your head up, coming closer, pressing a knee into the open space between your thighs for balance. When he gets close enough, he covers your eyes, and the next thing you feel is his mouth on yours.

It gives you butterflies, the way he presses in firmly, taking with his mouth, his beard scratching softly at your chin and lips. You hum against his mouth, feeling his hold on your jaw tighten for a second before he's shoving his tongue past your lips.

Like he owns you, his kiss consumes your senses, your bound fingers curling into little fists as you enjoy kissing him for a few moments more.

Before you bite down harshly on his tongue.

He pulls away in a split second, back to you as he presses his hand to his mouth. You grin in victory as he tugs the mask sitting on his head back down to his face before turning to face you angrily.

He's slow when he approaches, predatory with his long legs and his cocky attitude.

He drops to one knee in front of you, tilts his head, leaning in.

You hear the loud thud of his hand slamming into the space beside your head long before you've registered what's happened.

It makes you flinch in surprise, despite the fact that he'd practised it with you before. It seems way more sinister now, with his masked persona feeling like a different person altogether.

Naturally, the fear spinning inside of you, only succeeds in making you more aroused. 

“You're such a brat, I almost want to fuck you right now with no prep.” He presses his thumb between your spread legs, ambling slowly over your clothed clit, “I bet I'd make that little cunt cry with how much I stretch her.”

You suck in a slow breath.

“Please don't.”

He pulls his knife out again.

“You don’t really have a choice.” He answers, carefully angling the cool blade between the seam of your panties.

“Don’t move, little girl, or I might accidentally hurt you- on purpose.” He teases, tugging the knife toward him so that your panties are cut through with zero effort.

You sigh in relief when your cunt is finally exposed to the cool air, sticky with arousal, you groan when he tugs your undergarment free.

“Look at that weepy little hole princess- fuck- she’s so empty, isn’t she?”

“Noo” You hum softly, clenching around nothing as he studies your most delicate area.

He moves slowly, almost reverent in his actions, notching the tip of his hilt against your entrance, you feel your lungs seize as the pleasure hits you.

You hiss when he presses in, the ridged hilt stretching you open, not as big as his cock, but certainly larger than his fingers.

You take it as best as you can, relaxing, eyes watering with an abundance of pleasure.

He tilts his head, makes a single click of his tongue.

“She’s so greedy,” He says breathlessly, “Look at that.” He sinks more of the hilt in.

You bite your lip, moaning when he pulls slowly out, pushing in again.

He starts slow, moving softly until you can take all of the hilt. He grips the blade, you wonder if the glove protects him from the sharp edge.

You want to say his name, but he hasn’t given it, so you settle for sniffling, your bottom lip wobbling wetly as he takes his time.

“Stop.” You mewl, trying to stay in character, looking at his masked face, watching his dark eyes look back.

“No, sweetheart,” He says evenly, “I’m going to play with you, until I’m done.”

You suck in a deep breath, holding it.

He quickens his pace just a little, and before you know it, your cunt has locked tight around the hilt of his knife, every blunted ridge of it being imprinted into your head as you see stars.

It’s unexpected, you hadn’t meant to cum, your body jerking helplessly against the restraints, you pant, unable to see straight for a few moments.

You gulp in air, coming back to your senses. He waits patiently for your orgasm to subside, your body to relax before he works the hilt out of your eager cunt.

“You’re so pretty when you do that.” He says, tucking his knife back into his belt, studying you for a moment before reaching up to shove two of his fingers past your lips.

You can’t go anywhere, simply forced to feel him carefully push and pull his fingers in and out of your mouth, the weight on your tongue encouraging your brain to surrender to him.

When he determines his fingers are wet enough, he glides them down your chest, and tugs at the front of your dress.

It takes a little work before his thumb and index find your pert nipple.

A breath of air leaves you, and your back arches involuntarily, begging for more of his touch.

“You like it, huh? Kinda pathetic.”

“Rot in- f- hell.” You grunt, eyes rolling back as pleasure swims in your head from the way he takes his time to play with your nipples.

You feel his hand, drag over your stomach as he chuckles, the rushing sound as he disturbs the fabric of your skirts. Deft fingers rub circles into your inner thigh before a lone finger slips under the silky elastic garter that was holding your little knife.

You watch him assess you, bound arms and spread thighs and his masked face tilts as his eyes meet your centre.

“So pretty.” He mumbles, before he leans in, lifts his mask to the top of his head and lays a gentle lick to the seam of your cunt.

You gasp in surprise, unable to see his face with the mask atop his head, all you can do is feel- the way he licks gently at you, softly, the need burning white hot with each moment he teases. His tongue trails up to your clit, offers you a preview of the pleasure he can give, before placing slow swipes of his tongue over you.

You sigh, the fight leaves your limbs, you feel like jelly above him, with a tongue that can only be described as godly.

There’s no way you can continue fighting past this, his tongue pulls obedience from you, compliance, it makes you willing and eager to let him do whatever he wanted, helpless for your perfect husband.

You let out a slow moan, head tipping back, thighs trembling with the way his tongue moves, gliding over your clit, showing you exactly what he was capable of without ever actually giving you anything.

“Please,” You simper, unable to resist, with the tongue of such a dextrous man working on you.

If he wants to ask you about where your fight went, he doesn’t bother, merely laughing into your heated cunt, the fractures of his pale mask staring back at you.

Almost there, your fingers curl tight, nails pressed to the flesh of your palms as your breathing hastens. 

There’s a rushing in your head, pressure all over, threatening to make you burst apart.

You’re not sure if he knows or cares, his mask moving slightly when his head does, when his tongue, the raving appendage it is, delves through you.

Faster and yet faster, slippery tongue gliding over you, aimed at your oversensitive bundle of nerves, delicate movements of his tongue that are going to unravel you.

His beard rough against your thighs, a wet smacking sound, warm air brushing over you as he exhales, the reminder that he's there, enjoying his time on his knees, unwilling to stop until you've hit that peak.

He presses in closer, his grip on your thighs tightening, firm in their reminder that he’s there- as if you could forget. Your body shakes, soft whines leave your throat, his tongue harsher on your clit.

“I-” You try to say, but your body decides that you’ve spoken enough, you bite down on your bottom lip, every muscle in your body pulled tight.

The first thing you do when your orgasm hits, is tremble.

A sweet fire erupts inside of you, an insurmountable amount of pleasure spreading over you. Your breathing is harsh, heaving, his soft tongue licks you through it, gentle now and soothing between your thighs, no doubt drinking deep of your orgasm.

You press your hips into his face, unable to stop yourself, and he rewards the movement with more careful touches of his tongue.

The rope holding your arms and legs down chafes slightly, protesting your movement, and after a minute, you slump into the chair, boneless and sated.

Your breathing remains harsh, lips wet from being trapped between your teeth, your face is hot, you can feel each time the blood reaches your cheeks, each time your heart contracts in your chest.

You can't hold yourself up and you know it. If you weren't tied up you'd be in a boneless pile.

“Not bad, princess.” He says, warm breath on your thighs. He raises his body to be in your line of sight, the mask still covering his face. 

You feel your nipples tingle, excitement stiffening them as he hovers above you.

He tilts his head to study you, his gloved finger tapping the tip of your nose, sliding down to your parted lips.

“You look real pretty when you come. Your mouth opens and your eyes roll back sometimes- makes me want to do it again and again so I can memorise the way you look.”

It's hard to respond, brain hazy with post-orgasmic bliss, but you have to- you need to.

“Please,” You whisper, “You're not the first man to make me come, and you won't be the last.”

You know you're in real trouble when his hand wraps around your throat.

Your eyes widen, he squeezes hard for a moment, which only succeeds in filling your brain with mindless pleasure. You don't bother trying to breathe, waiting till his grip loosens to take a small breath.

“If you think,” He grunts angrily, leaning in till he hovers over you, “that another man is ever going to touch you, you're more delusional than I thought, princess.”

You can only make a small grunt of protest, gazing angrily up at him.

“And maybe I can't control who touched you before I met you, but I can still gift you their heads.”

It makes your breath stutter in shock.

He releases your throat, pressing the tip of his gloved finger to your bottom lip.

“Tug this off. I want to really touch you now.”

You hold his eyes while your teeth sink into the tip of his glove, biting down on his finger too. He pulls down, dislodging his finger from the glove. You release it, and repeat the process with all five of his fingers, and finally, when they're all loose, you clamp your teeth down on the middle finger of his glove and he pulls his hand free easily.

 It smears your lipstick no doubt, and you probably look quite messy by now, no doubt your hair is askew as well.

He reaches down after he makes you help with his other glove, and you hear the slow drag of his zipper. Nothing has ever sounded so euphoric.

You look up at him with wide eyes to find that he's already looking at you.

His eyes terrify you, so much darkness in them, you wonder how you'd never seen it before.

“Don't do this.” You beg, startling when you feel his hot cock brush your inner thigh.

At the same time, the main lights flicker off, only the small auxiliary lights on the walls glow softly.

The darkness in his eyes grow, until it becomes an extension of the room.

“Just breathe, princess, this is going to hurt.”

It does at first.

Even though you've come three times so far, and he's used the hilt of his knife on you, and also his tongue to help further your wetness, his size still pinches. 

It's been a while, and you feel it in the way he stretches you open, going slow because he knows he's not an easy man to take.

But God, he feels so good.

The pain comes with double the pleasure, that makes your eyes roll back in your head, bound hands curling into fists, nails digging into your palm in an attempt to process the feeling.

He pushes the tip of his cock in, works carefully to fill you, slows down when he encounters resistance.

You take a shallow breath, coming back to your senses a little, looking up at him as he works himself into you.

He rocks his hips, encouraging your body to feel him, to welcome him in, and you have no control over it, surrendering to him easily.

He's so deep you feel it in your throat, a shuddering mess as he bottoms out, you feel tears spring to your eyes, a fullness you've been craving.

Your lips tremble, watery vision glued to the mask, you couldn't look away if you wanted to.

“Should I stop?” He asks, a minuscule tremor of his voice that gives away that he's not as unaffected as he seems.

You can't say the words, the lie too big to be voiced, but you want to keep playing despite how desperately you need him.

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding softly.

He blinks behind the mask, a tilt of his head to study you. 

Arms braced on either side of you, he leans in till the mask touches your cheek.

“That's too bad.” He murmurs.

Then, he draws out, before pressing into you once more.

You make a small sound, and then another when he does it again, the slow drag of his cock is torture, but that's the best part.

You whine, unable to speak, or voice your frustrations, but he chuckles above you, already knowing that he's not giving you what you need.

It's slow, so fucking slow and yet deep enough to create spots of black in your vision. 

He grunts above you, and the sound goes right down to your cunt, clamping around him for a second before releasing.

“Fuck.” He growls, “You're so tight. I'm going to love coming in you.”

This was it, time to be the best actress possible.

“N-no, you can't! I'm- I'm not-”

His laugh is so dark it sends shivers down your spine.

Deep and low, devastatingly malicious.

“I can’t?” He teases.

You shake your head no quickly, eyes wide in shock and fear.

He pauses his slow movements to look down at you, too enraptured to focus on two things at once.

“Who’s going to stop me, princess? You?”

You struggle against your bindings helplessly.

“It's okay, we both know you'll learn to like it.”

With those words, he resumes his slow pace.

It's not fair, barely realistic you've never had an orgasm creep up on you like this.

You don't understand, his cock is moving slow, and yet all your pleasure spots are sparking. Is it his size? Or maybe he just knows your body so well that he can force an orgasm so sweet out of you that it almost hurts.

But you can feel every spark, every short circuit of your brain, your toes curl, and your back stiffens, and the dangerous man above you draws it out, wringing each drop of pleasure before moving to the next.

“Perfect.” He whispers, almost sounding out of breath, and when your chest begins to burn, he delivers one harsh thrust of his cock that makes you topple like a house of cards.

A moan leaves your mouth on every other breath, unable to control your vocalisations, or even your breathing, clamped so tightly around him that he makes a low grunt before you feel him spill inside of you. It makes it that much better, knowing that he's hit his peak at the same time you have.

You come back to your senses slowly, his mask coming into focus.

Each breath eases the burning pleasure, replacing it with sweet euphoria, a drug like never before.

He’s panting too, trembling a little, no doubt struggling to stay upright after his first orgasm in six weeks.

And here you are, about to taunt him for it.

“Is that it?” You ask softly.

You’re a little unprepared for the way his eyes scald you.

“Is my cunt that good?” You continue to tease.

He closes his eyes, takes a slow breath to calm himself.

When he looks at you again, you know you're in a lot of trouble.

He leans away, reaches for his knife before slowly cutting the ropes free from around your ankles.

You hiss when he frees your arms, noticing that there's the impression of the rope on your wrists, you rub them as you right your legs, moving them from their previously spread state.

He watches you, and you do the same warily.

“Stand up.”

You gulp, pushing yourself onto wobbly legs, you sway for a moment, before looking over at him expectantly.

He’s still wearing the mask, but by now you’re aching to see his face, you wanted to see your husband while he did these wicked things to you.

He tilts his head toward the door, and your eyes follow the motion, not understanding until he speaks.

“Get out.”

Your head swivels back to him.

“Go, before I change my mind.”

This was another game, you realise, you’d made him mad, and he was going to show you exactly how helpless you were.

You back away, like always, keeping your eyes on his. You can feel his cum, smearing the inside of your thighs as you move. It only makes you more aroused.

You smooth your dress out anxiously, looking down at the shimmery material, and then back up at him, slowly backing away until you’re far enough that he won’t grab you from behind.

When you make it to the door, he’s still standing where he was, looking at you in the dimly lit room.

You can feel your heart in your throat with the fear of everything around you, a sinister ambience, the thrill of being chased.

Outside is dim as well.

The main lights are off. All you have to go on are the smaller lights along the walls.

You don’t get too far from the throne room before all the auxiliary lights flicker off as well.

The darkness squeezes at your heart, a shiver going down your spine. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the distinct nothingness.

The room is still, quiet around you but you can feel him everywhere. It’s like he’s the darkness surrounding you, touching your skin, depriving you of everything except himself.

It’s why you’re not surprised when you feel him at your back.

His hand reaches around, grips your throat and uses the leverage to pull you back. He isn’t gentle, squeezing at the sides harshly to ensure you’re paying attention to him, as if you could ever be distracted.

His bare hand, warm, coarse, thumb and middle finger pressed to either side of your neck. You go lightheaded at the sensation.

You feel his nose press into your hair, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear and you realise he’s taken his mask off.

“I change my mind.” He whispers darkly, laughs when you struggle.

You pull out of his grip, and you run as fast as your legs can take you.

He doesn’t chase, and you make it a good distance away, tucking your body behind a wall to catch your breath. You don’t know where you are, but you assume it’s somewhere near the front doors. The pins in your hair are uncomfortable, and you take your time tugging the little tiara out of your hair, dropping it to the floor.

You can feel his cum, making an even bigger mess, and the implications of that only succeed in heightening your arousal.

The sound of his knife, dragging against the wooden panels on the walls catch your attention. You lift your head, a tug of desire pulls below your navel.

“You know, the first time I met you, really met you, I couldn't believe you were real.” He says, his voice carrying through the quiet hallway.

“You looked at me, and you listened, and all I could think about was how to get you alone, away from that useless boyfriend of yours.”

Your lips part, head pressed to the wall, eager to hear his words, your heart drumming in your chest.

“And when you left me that night, I went back to my lonely apartment, and I found out everything I could about you. I didn’t sleep. I needed to find something to hate- something that would help me stop obsessing over a girl I’d met one time.”

His voice gets closer and you know you have to move, or else he was going to find you. 

Quietly, you kick your shoes off, abandoning them so that your steps can be quieter, you lift your skirts slowly, trying to stop the swishing sound it makes.

“You know what I found? Nothing. Nothing could make me hate you, nothing could stop what you started when you smiled at me, all of it made me want you.”

Your heart hammers even more with his words.

“And while I was trying to come up with a plan to make you mine, I’d been yours for ages.”

You stop, turning to his voice as he says that last part, wanting to go to him, to hold him, to tell him the secret you’d been keeping for weeks- that you were his too.

“Don’t fret too much about it though, princess. There’s no need to worry, I’ll feel all better once you come on my cock.”

You gasp, backing away, one hand behind you to stop you from bumping into anything. He was absolutely insane in the best way.

You can’t see a damn thing, feeling your way around to find the entrance you’d come through, your breathing is loud in your ears, you’re sure he can hear you.

You were conflicted. You wanted to run towards the scary man hiding in the darkness, though you know it would be worth your while to run away.

“You want me so bad?” You taunt into the darkness, “You’ll have to catch me first.”

Skirts in hand, you follow the first light you see- the moonlight streaming through the kitchen windows, the feel of the carpet runner helps you move in a straight line, and the next thing you know is that you’re at the foot of the stairs.

You look back, trying to make shapes out of the darkness, but there’s nothing there, you turn and begin your ascent.

You don’t know where he is, he could be two feet or two inches behind you and you wouldn’t know.

Your body is warm from the adrenaline, the dress constricts your breathing.

You stop for a second time when you find what you think is a tea room.

There’s a large wooden table sitting in front of an equally large window, the moonlight streaming in allows you to see that there’s a wall of mirrors on one side of the room. On the other side, is a smaller round table with a porcelain teapot, and other matching dishes.

“Surprise.” He says from right behind you, and you swear your heart jumps right out of your chest.

Before you can turn to look at him, your cheek is pressed to the large table, one hand behind your neck, the other pulls your skirts up.

When he has your ass exposed, his hand comes down hard on your soft flesh. You cry out.

“That’s for all your mouthing back.” He grunts, before spanking you again.

It hurts, stings so sweetly, you try to rise but his hand is firm on the spot between your neck and shoulder.

When he’s satisfied, he reaches down between your legs.

He clicks his tongue, his fingers swiping through the mess between your thighs.

“Look at the mess you made. Don't you have any kind of consideration for how hard I worked to put my cum in you?”

You feel him move, you assume to take his cock out. Your suspicions are confirmed when you feel him kick your legs wider, pressing his tip to your entrance.

You mewl helplessly when he enters you.

Stretched once more, he feels bigger in this position, his pace is harsh, fucking into you meaningfully, your eyes roll back in your head, spit slipping from past your lips as your face is kept pressed to the table.

You feel a sharp tug and your dress loosens, too pleasure drunk to figure out why.

The glide of his cock quells your urge to fight, your body sparking, electrified at the feeling of him.

He pulls you upwards, and the front of the dress sags, exposing your front to the air.

“Look at us.” He growls into your ear, turning your head to the mirror, you see your bodies reflecting back. Him, in his tight shirt and open pants, you with your beautiful shimmering dress caught between your bodies and hanging off your shoulders. It’s the first time for the night that you see his face, and your eyes are locked on how handsome he looks, hair askew, filling you with his magnificent erection.

He’d cut the back of your dress, you realise absentmindedly, your full breasts on display for him because of that, a small sound leaving your chest as he enters you again.

“We’re perfect together.” He acknowledges, you internally agree.

He presses his lips to your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror, his teeth flashing for a second before he bites you.

You cry out, the sweet burn of it only succeeds in making you want him more and more.

He doesn’t stop when you come, only slows for a moment to help you catch your breath before he continues.

“All mine now, princess.” He affirms, his hips slapping against yours, filling you till your vision blurs.

Deeper than ever, you feel his cock press securely to your cervix, eager to have him fill you with his cum.

You take a shuddering breath, so close to another orgasm, unable to think about anything with the way he feels.

Your nails claw at the table, willing your body to take him, your perfect husband, giving you just what you need. He groans above you, enjoying you almost as much as you enjoy him.

The pleasure builds, swimming in your head, worsening with each move of his cock inside of you. He holds nothing back, all of his energy is focused on filling you as hard and as fast as he can, leaving nothing behind but hot, near blistering, rapture.

You cry out when you come, body shuddering, a loud roaring in your head. He grunts loudly, following you over the edge, filling you with even more of his hot cum.

After a moment, he draws out of you, helping you stand, he gently pulls your dress off, discarding it on the ground, he reaches to scoop your swaying body into his arms.

You’re sated, unable to lift your head. You feel him rest you gently on a soft, cool bed.

The sheets are amazing on your overstimulated skin, and you peek your eyes open to watch him pull his tight fitting shirt over his head.

In the low light, your eyes find his tattoo, you smile softly as it ripples, watching him kick his shoes and pants off too, until he’s hovering above you, naked.

“You’re so gorgeous.” You whisper dreamily, raising a hand to press it to his cheek.

He lets out an air of amusement, he reaches around, gripping one of your legs to wrap it around his hip.

“Only the best for you, princess.” He hums, before you feel him push his cock into you once more.

You fall asleep to him fucking you, your adrenaline crashes after countless orgasms, and before you know it you’re out. You wake a few hours later to find him inside you once more.

You moan his name, your body still eager and receptive to him, having craved this side of him for so long.

“Messy pile of wife.” He grunts into your ear mid-thrust, “Just like I promised.”

There’s so much of his cum slipping out, you can feel it, you can’t wait for him to top you up with more.

He kisses your cheek, licks a stripe through the tears slipping from the corner of your eyes.

“Cum for me. One more time, baby.”

You gasp, nodding, head filled with cotton, floating in the clouds, lost in his essence.

You blink hazily after you feel the smooth metal plug slip in, soothing you with its coolness, arousing you with the reminder that he’s filled you to the brim.

You’re pressed against him, his hand wrapped securely around you. He stretches to reach something on the bedside table.

You’re almost asleep when you feel him slip your ring back onto your finger.

It makes you complete, eases any lingering worry.

“I love you, Billy.” You murmur, before you finally let sleep take you.

.

It wakes him up.

He blinks in shock, turning to look at you.

You’ve already fallen asleep, breaths even with your left hand pressed to his chest.

Had you really just said what he thinks you just said?

He considers shaking you awake, desperate to hear you say it again. To tell him what he’s been dreaming of for years.

What if it was a mistake? His mind asks.

His stomach drops.

What if you didn’t really mean it?

He swears he breaks his own heart in the moments after you say those four words.

He stays awake for a while, trying to memorise your words, the way you said them, the way they made him feel. He tries to learn the hour and the minute and the position of the moon in the sky at the very moment the words left your mouth.

He wonders if he’ll ever hear them again, wonders if this would be the only time in his life that you say these words to him.

If this is all he gets, he decides he’s going to cherish it.

“I love you too.” He whispers, with everything he has.

.

You’re curled up against him the next morning having breakfast when you finally take the time to examine your ring.

Your body is sore, having been fucked thoroughly, but you were a little proud to see the litany of scratches over the expanse of Billy’s back. You weren’t the only one marked last night.

You raise your hand to offer him a piece of your buttered croissant, he eagerly takes a bite.

“My ring looks the same. What did you change?” You ask, reaching for more jam.

“The inside.” He says with his mouth full.

You smile, pulling it off your finger to see what’s there. On the silver surface on the inside, you can see something engraved. At first you think it’s words, but as you bring the ring closer to your face you realise it’s numbers.

“I’m still confused.” You state.

He makes a little hum, having just swallowed his food.

“If you go to my bank, and show them this ring, and give them your fingerprint, you can withdraw from any of my personal accounts.”

You blink, your eyebrows drawing together.

After a moment you give him a confused look.

He chuckles, reaching up to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing over your tense eyebrows, encouraging them to relax.

“Any amount, little wife, any time.” He elaborates.

You blink in shock.

He was… giving you access to his money?

“Is that safe?” You ask warily.

“Planning to take all my money?” He teases.

“No! But- what if someone steals the ring… or… kidnaps me and forces me to take it?”

“That will never happen.” He promises, his fingers tightening on your cheek to reinforce his words, “As long as I’m breathing, and even if I’m not, you will always be safe.”

“You can’t stop breathing,” You fight back, leaning in to wrap your arms around him, “I won’t let you.” The words are muffled against his shirt.

He laughs.

“Noted.”

.

He grunts, his fingers curling over yours as they grip the back of the soft couch.

“Hold on.” He commands, just as he slides his amazing cock into your body.

You make a soft sound of delight, tipping your head back to rest on his chest. He groans into your ear, fucking up into you slowly and thoroughly.

His skin is hot, having spent the morning of the second day exploring the gardens outside, only to come back in and ravish you on the sitting room couch.

His left hand drops down, thick fingers find your swollen clit.

“Sing for me. Let me hear you, wife.”

You whine, the sensation of his fingers rolling over your clit makes your legs shake.

“Gonna take my cum like a good girl?” He grovels in your ear.

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding, seeing stars as he rubs your clit with more fervour.

“Fucking perfect.” He moans, and the words go right to your cunt, setting you off.

He growls in your ear when you clench around him, it only makes your orgasm last that much longer, eager to have him cum, you roll your hips on his cock.

It succeeds in working him into a frenzy, and you’re face down, with your ass in the air in the next moment.

He licks your slit harshly before his cock slides right back in, moving faster, his hips set a brutal pace, your next orgasm is like a gunshot.

He falls beside you after he comes, out of breath with a dopey grin on his face.

“What is it?” You ask curiously.

“Nothing really,” He gasps, “I just feel really fucking good.”

You smile shyly, leaning up to kiss him.

.

You’re whisking eggs for french toast when his arms wrap around you.

He presses his nose into your hair, breathing in your soft smell.

“Morning.” He grovels into your ear, feels your body shiver.

“Hello Mister Russo. Sleep okay?’

He chuckles, remembering the feel of your lips around his cock as he came last night. Fuck, you were delightfully insatiable.

“Like a rock,” He confirms, “Join me for a bath?”

“Yeah,” You agree, “Let me finish this batch and I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, little wife.” He whispers as he pulls back, reaches for an apple sitting in the basket nearby, taking a slow bite.

“I won’t. Love you.” You say absentmindedly.

Billy stops.

He turns to stare at your back in shock. You continue moving as if you haven’t said anything strange.

“What was that?” He asks.

You raise your head to glance at him.

“I’ll be right there.”

“No, the last part.”

You blink, a look of confusion on your face.

“I… love you?” 

The room goes still, the only sound is the french toast as it sizzles.

“You love me?” He asks, his heart getting heavier and lighter at an alarming rate.

“Yeah? I-I said it to you on our first night. You- you said it back.”

He did remember saying it back.

“I thought you said it accidentally.”

You pause, reaching to turn the stove off, before facing him.

“You thought my tongue slipped and I told you I loved you without meaning it?”

Billy swallows.

“I thought the number of orgasms had gotten to your head and you were saying things that might not be totally true.”

Your eyebrows raise in realisation.

“It was true. I’ve been… feeling like that for a while.”

“Like you love me.” He says dumbly.

You nod your head.

“Like I love you.” You confirm.

This wasn’t an outcome Billy had ever seen coming. Sure, he’d been hoping for fondness, that he could give you a comfortable life and you could be content by his side.

But love?

Unthought of.

“Why the fuck would you love me?” He whispers, horrified.

He’d done so many bad things, ruined your life in so many ways.

You take a careful step in his direction.

“What’s not to love? You’re smart, and strong and you go after what you want-”

“-One of those things was you.” He argues.

You laugh. He wasn’t joking.

“Yeah, how I got here wasn’t the best, but, I’m glad I am, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

He takes a step toward you, and then another, and then his arms are pulling you into a soul crushing hug.

“You love me.” He murmurs into the top of your head.

“Yes,” You reply, holding him just as tightly, “I do.”

.

“Where are we anyway?” You ask on the fourth night.

He raises his head from between your thighs.

“Europe.” He answers vaguely, before dropping his head to lap gently at your clit once more.

You smile happily, leaning back against the library desk.

“Billy?”

“Mmm?” He hums from between your thighs.

“I love you.”

You feel the breath he lets out before he pulls back. 

He kisses you, lips wet with your arousal, a tart taste on your tongue that makes you smile when he pulls away.

“I’ll show you how much I love you.” He mumbles, dropping to his knees once more.

.

Coming back to his apartment after that had felt surreal.

Like it was all a dream, the fucking best dream you’d ever had.

You’d been given a letter from your mother at the front desk, and you’d happily dropped it to the floor the minute Billy had pulled you into his arms for a slow kiss.

It was… magical, your fingers glazing through his beard, gripping his hair, the next thing you know you’re being lifted and taken to his bedroom.

The fire hadn’t left either of you, burning, sizzling sparks each time you touched, each time you held his hand or kissed his cheek.

He was all over you, inside and out, claiming you in a way you knew deep down would never be done by another.

“My wife.” He groans into your ear when he comes. 

You pant, reaching up to kiss him, legs wrapped tightly around his hips to keep him inside of you for as long as possible.

Your husband.

.

He leaves you in the early morning of the next day. It’s training day and he wants to get there early to get a jump on what he’s missed.

He kisses a path between the valley of your breasts down to your womb before he leaves, dressed in a crisp charcoal suit. You grin happily as you fall back asleep.

Later, when it’s time for you to leave for work, you find that manila envelope your mom had sent you sitting on the kitchen counter. Billy had probably picked it up from the floor where you had left it yesterday when he was leaving for work earlier.

You reach for it after you’re done hopping around to tug your heel on.

It’s unopened, so you take your time peeling it open, wondering what it was. Last time it had been a bunch of recoloured family photos, you assumed this was probably more of the same.

It’s not, it’s a stack of papers. At first, it’s odd things like flyers for bikes, and a bouncy castle rental ad. You flip through, a little concerned that your mother might be losing her mind.

Your face falls when you flip another page, and find what’s really been sent.

SUPREME COURT OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK

You could feel your heart turn to ice.

You see your name printed under Plaintiff, and under Defendant, is Billy’s. Most of your information has been filled out, including your fucking social security number. Most of Billy’s information is missing, only his real name is there.

Then you see it.

‘The grounds for dissolution of the marriage are as follows:’

Divorce papers.

These were divorce papers.

.

.

.

A/N: DON'T HURT ME THANKS

[bedoballoons]

Could I request Neuvilette receiving a paizuri from his wife?

Yesssss!!! Thank you for your request an I hope you enjoy! Sorry it took a long time to write <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Paizuri~༺}

CW: NSFW! MDNI! Bottom Fem reader, established relationship, c*m shot, tit f*cking and Neuvillette calls the reader dearest/darling/goregous and mentions her being a good girl!!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

You gasped quietly as Neuvillettes hand slid up your shirt, his warm fingers slowly tracing over the soft skin of your back until he made his way to the band of your bra and unclipped it with a satisfying snap, releasing your bouncy breasts from their cage and relieving you of their weight with a breathy moan. His lips were still against yours, the kiss growing ever needier with his tongue exploring your mouth excitedly...you were truly the most amazing wife he could ask for, beautiful and such a good girl for him, ready to please him just the way he liked.

You pulled away just long enough to lift your shirt above your head, letting your tits drop out with a satisfying bounce while Neuvillette watched in delight, licking his lips eagerly as he leaned into the crook of your neck, his hot breath caressing the shell of your ear, "Dearest, please don't just tease~" His voice was deep with lust, a low groan escaping him as you rubbed your knee between his legs, grazing his throbbing member.

You placed your hands on his chest, shoving him back just enough so he fell onto the bed behind him, his white hair sprawling out against the sheets as you trailed your fingers up his legs and to his pants, undoing them with ease while his eyes stayed trained on your beautiful breasts, "Mmm, my darling, you're the epitome of perfect~" Your heart skipped a beat, he was always so sweet with his words and butterflies always appeared in your stomach whenever he complimented you, even at a time like this he knew how to make you feel wonderful.

"Neuvie~" You said quietly, releasing his cock from his undergarments, shocked to see how it sprang up so well, tip already soiled with precum. He hissed at the cold touching his sensitive skin, but you didn't let it last long as you pressed your tits tightly around his length and slowly moved them up to the tip, letting the precum drip down your soft mounds to use as lubricant. "Yesss, now move for me goregous mmm~" He moaned as you followed his instructions, sliding your breasts up and down his dick and kitten licking the tip of it every so often just to watch his hands clench the sheets.

It always amazed you how your husband could be the prim proper Chief of justice one moment and then become so completely unraveled by your chest that his sentences no longer made any sense, his voice going hoarse from the loud moans you won from him with every movement, "Mnnnhhgh, you feel so wonderful d-darling, such a good girl for m-me, nhhh-hh~" His praise only made you go faster, your tits jiggling everytime you lifted them and your cunt wet at the sounds he was making, you were starting to need him just as bad as he needed release.

"Ahhhng!~" He groaned loudly, his body rising off the bed as your stared up at him with doe eyes, he was hoping to last longer but his cum shot out before he could stop himself, covering your chest in his sticky hot seed while you continued to to please him through his high. Your wetness had seeped through your underwear by then, dripping down your legs as you crawled on top of him, "Can your good girl have her turn now?~"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Happy kinktober~*⁠.⁠✧

[meguvmii]

I still want you.

Chapter 1

⤿ Satoru Gojou x reader

Falling in love with the Satoru Gojou wasnt an easy task. You truly love him but will this come to an end?

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating.

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jjk, Gojou x reader

Notes: the tag-list is open if you’d like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message.

master-list ⤏ chapter 2

you knew it would eventually come to this.

"Saturo where are you?" Gripping the phone you waited for one of his excuses again. This wasn't the first time he missed your sons birthday party. The first time you let it go because his excuse was working late but now this is the third time he's done this. "Listen, im on my way to the house im passing by to get his cake okay. Just trust me i swear," Panting, you could hear him slamming a door and run towards his car. "Really Satoru?! i asked you to buy the cake 3 hours ago!!" It was evident you were starting to get mad, pissed to be exact. Not only did you ask him to buy the cake, it was already starting to get late.

Your son was sitting down next to you playing with some of the toys you had bought him for his last birthday. Of course because he was only 4 years old he didn't know what was going on. He expected his daddy to come home and shower him in kisses and hugs telling him happy birthday and how much he loved him. "mommy...when is daddy coming? I want to sleep," Rubbing his eyes he laid his head on your lap. Slowly caressing his hair you smiled at him "Soon baby, he'll be here soon... Why don't you take a nap while we wait?" Smiling at him you waited for his response. He flickered his beautiful long eyelashes nodding his head as you pulled him closer to you. "See? Even your own son is tired of waiting for you. Get home now." Was the last thing you said before hanging up.

You gently grabbed the blanket that was next to you, placing it on top of your son so he wouldn't get cold. sighing you gently moved his head from your lap onto a pillow. God who knew how much Satoru would forget about your son. Not only did he suggest on having a child and being there to always support you... What a liar. Your footsteps echoed in the silent apartment. The floor was cold, wind blowing from the windows. Geez, after everything you still loved Satoru. You grabbed a cigarette from your drawer, walking towards the balcony you lit the cigar. You really didn't like smoking at all but for some reason it set you at ease.

Trying to control your anger you just stared at the sky. Watching how the stars shined and how beautiful the moon was. The way the bird chirped or the way the car sounded when it passed by the apartment. You lived in a luxurious apartment. 3 story with 3 bedrooms and 4 restrooms. Like they usually say money can't buy happiness.

Letting another puff of smoke emit from your mouth you hanged your head low. Slowly blinking you started to cry. Life was certainly not going your way. Your husband never being home, your child never having a good childhood without hearing his parents fight. You even considered sending him with your parents for a while but Satoru didn't like the idea at all. You truly loved Satoru with all your heart. Being highschool sweethearts until now. Were we to young? was it because I was pregnant? is that why he decided to marry me.. shaking your head you kept on reassuring yourself that wasn't the case.

You were only 18 when you got pregnant. Straight out of highschool you found out you were pregnant. Telling Satoru was the only good memory you had left. The way his eyes shined when you told him. Him jumping with joy and excitement to have a child. As soon as the word spread he swore to take care of you and your child no matter what. Swearing that he would marry you as soon as he could.

Throwing the small cigar you walked back into the living room, grabbing a pack of gum and chewing it so your son wouldn't smell the intoxicating smell of cigarettes. Your eyes slowly shifted to the picture to your right. A picture of you and Satoru after getting married. Both of you smiling, you could almost remember how happy you were. Suddenly the door opened, Satoru was holding some flowers and a small cake on the other hand. Smiling he entered. "Im sorry im so late" His eyes shifted to the kitchen seeing the plate of food you left for him and then back to you. "Okay, im going to wake sumire up." You paid no attention to the flowers he got you.

He got sunflowers.. sunflowers the one flower you hated because you would always get a puffy face when you were near them. He didn't even remember your favorite flower. Even though you named your own child the flowers name.

Wiping a tear you gently woke up sumire. "Honey, your dad is here. Cmon go say hi," patting his back you lifted him up. He rubbed his eyes before wrapping his tiny arms around your neck. "Daddy!!" you placed sumire down before he ran towards Satoru. "I missed you so much daddy!! Mommy was so sad when you weren't here for the party..." Hugging Satoru he told him all about the party. You grabbed the cake from Satoru placing down in the counter. "Satoru can you get the candles from the cabinet please." He looked at you with sad eyes. You could obviously tell he was sorry but you didn't want to accept his apology.

"Happy birthday to you...Happy birthday dear sumire...Happy birthday to you!" Smiling you kissed his cheek. He giggled kissing you back on the cheek. "Mommy can i open my gifts now!!" kicking his feet he impatiently moved around. Looking at satoru you signaled him to get the gifts from your room. "Yes honey, you may." You quickly fixed his hair before Satoru came back.

You truly adored your son, he was beautiful. His beautiful blue eyes he got from Satoru and your H/C hair. The way it matched so perfectly made him look ethereal. He didnt even look real, you already imagined yourself old and him having his own little family. Smiling you gave him one last kiss and waited for Satoru to come back. Speaking of the devil he was walking towards you right now. "Alright pick which one you want to open first." Two big presents where laid on the counter.

"Satoru don't lie to me why were you late again?" sumire was sleeping soundly in his room, standing next to your bed you waited for him to answer. "Listen i don't want to do this right now.." He said avoiding eye contact. Shaking your head you let out a laugh "You dont want to do this? neither do i, but then how are we going to fix this? how are we supposed to fix us."

Shaking your head, tears started to build up. breathing heavily you looked at him with anger, sadness, and disappointment. "You know how many times i have to pretend im okay. Do you know how many times i have to tell sumire you're working hard for us, that you still love him?" Satoru got up trying to grab you, you pushed his hand away. "im sorry." he said looking at how destroyed you were. Watching how your mascara stained your cheeks, how your lipstick was smudged from the side. "i hate you." yelling at him he grabbed you. Pulling you into him, his grip getting stronger by the second.

"I know you don't mean that Y/N." he wrapped his arms around your waist. Your eyes flashing with anger, you started hitting his chest. "Let me go Satoru" you kept on trying to get his hands off but he wouldn't let go. "Im not going to let you go until you calm down Y/N" His eyes met yours, seeing how he had no reaction to this made you fill with rage. what the actual fuck? was he really not even moved by what you said? "How do you just stand there not doing anything not feeling anything for me? while i cry my ass out begging you to act like a father not for me but for our child.

Hitting his chest repeatedly you assumed he would lose his grip on you. "Just got to sleep Y/N you're tired." He clutched your chin and stared into your eyes. His hair was messy, and his eyes had no emotion. He was tired, but so were you. You began to cry, hiding your face from your husband who just stared. It sucked being the only one who cared about this marriage. “Im sorry.” He leaned in slowly to kiss your forehead caressing your face while he frowned at you. Satoru truly felt sorry but not for this situation.

“Hey, I'll make it up to you.” He leaned into you and kissed you gently. Despite the passionate kiss, you felt nothing towards it. You usually get butterflies when Satoru kisses you this way. When he kissed, he usually did so in a rough and sensual way. Nowadays, you and Satoru rarely even kiss. You would always find him randomly approaching you and letting you know he "missed you" with a small peck on the lips or even a full makeout session behind the gym. You really missed the way his soft lips felt against yours. Every once in a while, he would touch your waist and squeeze it.

He was such a gentleman back then, not that he isn't now, but back then he was so different. Once he stopped kissing you he stared into your eyes saying the words that once meant everything to you.

“I love you so much.”

You just stared back not saying a single word. “Me too.” Finally he decided to let go of you, pushing you onto the bed. “Listen next week my company is going to a business trip. I already booked a room for us.” Turning off the lights he cuddled into you. Leaving you to your thoughts you didn't know what to do. 'was he really going to act like we're okay? like if our family isn't slowly falling apart...?' Closing your eyes you let out a small breath, crying yourself to sleep.

[lilith-91]

Do you think that Lyanna and Rhaegar were seriously in love?

Yes. It’s literally so plain to see, you have to dig your nails deep in denial to think otherwise. You can read between the lines that GRRM wrote them as lovers.

GRRM has described himself as a romantic and ultimately R+L will be framed romantically (yes yes it has problematic implications when you think about it, but so do many other relationships that the series frames romantically, not least because these books were written with thirty-year-old sexual mores).

He dies with her name on his lips, she with his roses in her hand.

The subversion of “dragon kidnaps girl and valiant lover knight fights a war to save his beloved from her tower” when in truth the “knight” turns out to be a bit of a manwhoring douch who slept with every woman he came across, and the girl loved the dragon he slayed.

The gender subversion of the beautiful Princess with the beautiful voice and the valiant knight who stands up for the weak.

The tale of Bael the Bard, in which a Stark maid associated with winter roses disappears with a singer and comes back with their son. A male relative takes part in his killing and presents it to her as some kind of victory, but it actually breaks her heart, and she dies “by tower”.

Lyanna being heavily asscoicated to Winter Roses which were given to her by non other than Rhaegar Targaryen when he named her his Queen of Love and Beauty. Roses in general are a symbol of love while the blue rose adds a hint of mystique and in attanining the impossible.

Rhaegar, the emo Prince, who was said to have been never truly happy, named the place he stayed at with Lyanna the “Tower of Joy.”

Dany seeing a blue flower growing out of a wall of ice, which filled the air with sweetness in the HotU during the love section of her visions. It's a clear hint of Jon Snow being the love child of Rhaegar and Lyanna who will likely also be Dany’s third and final husband.

Ned confronts Robert about not truly loving Lyanna, because he only ever saw her beauty and not the Iron underneath- it’s implied that the big moment between Rhaegar and Lyanna was meeting her as a Knight who valiantly defended the honor of the weak, not some lovely little maiden spotted at a feast as she would have been to Robert.

The author refers to Rhaegar as a “love struck prince.”

And of course, we have this official new artwork by Justin Sweet, one that GRRM personaly commissioned, which frankly gives me some misguided hope that TWOW is nearly upon us. lol

I love the interplay of light and dark given what we know of these characters: Rhaegar with his sense of grief/doom is fully in the shade of the enormous heart tree while Lyanna is in the half-light half-dark, perhaps representing her own more optimistic and less convoluted worldview. She's exploring, finding balance; he's watching and seeing something he admires that somehow exists in all the twists and inescapable turns of the forest engulfing them.

The third 'person' in the art is the heart tree itself, old/wise/frowning, but also cradling both Lyanna and Rhaegar. They're both connected to it, representing in a sense that their fates are sealed and known. This is a stolen moment they're having (it's a false spring) but despite the simplicity it's still connected to the much larger world around them.

Another point I like is the lack of sigil etc. on their clothing—we know who they are but the interaction is not one of Targaryen to Stark on it's face. [there's also this other art by the same artist which parallels Lyanna and Jon's poses + Rhaegar and Jon's clothes

LAST AND MOST IMPORTANT THOUGH: the blue roses at the bottom that are firmly in the light.

Conclusion: Rhaegar and Lyanna were intended to be your classical tragic love story; think Romeo and Juliet or Tristan and Isolde and whatnot, not Rhaegar kidnapping some random girl to have a Visenya. Although Rhaegar’s desire to have a third child probably pushed him into pursuing his passion in running off with ‘his Lady Lyanna’ too use some of Ser Barristan words here.

[darklinsblog]

Instructing Pleasure | Lucerys Velaryon

Summary: As you are soon to chose a husband, your brother Luke, realizes you know nothing of sex. so he decided to teach you.

Pairing: Lucerys Velaryon x TargaryenReader

Warnings: Smut

Part II

Author’s note: Basically following Targaryen traditions, yes. If you want to be added to the taglist of HOTD please lmk!

Born as the last child and only daughter of the marriage of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon brought a lot of attention, as you were a bloody living imagine of both Sir Laenor and Rhaenyra.

There was absolutely no way anyone could question your offspring and truth be told, you became the next Realm’s Delight but your giving nickname was the Enchanting Ember.

People of King’s Landing adored to watch you turn into the beautiful young lady you now were, and ever since your birth it was easier to mitigate rumors of your brothers potential “bastardy” so you quite literally, brought the family together.

Your mother had become Queen, as it was planned from the very start, Jacaerys had taken more responsibilities as heir to the throne and to start your mother’s regency on a happy note, Jacaerys and Baela celebrated their union.

Lucerys was a year away from becoming Lord of Driftmark, which meant he was also soon to celebrate his arranged marriage.

By this time you were sixteen and overall you had no political obligations like Jacaerys, Lucerys or Joffrey, but by your age both your mother and Daemon, who was very much your father, thought it was the perfect age to start looking for potential suitors.

There were in no rush to marry you, in fact, the simply wanted to give you enough time for you to choose your spouse, therefore, giving you the freedom of choosing your fate.

As your focus was now to find a husband, you began to take more care of your appearance, you had to represent your House, you had to present yourself as the rightful daughter of a Queen.

Your brothers noticed this, especially Lucerys. Both of you were very close since childhood, always sitting together at family reunions and dinings, but one night he noticed his perception of you, was changing to him.

It was no surprise when you were coming late for the supper, it was quite usual of your character and Lucerys was chatting with his brothers when the doors opened, reveling you in a rosy- silver gown, with your hair falling on your back yet perfectly arranged, not a single hair out of place.

He lifted his brows in awe, suddenly feeling a notorious lack of air in his lungs, truly everyone was mesmerized, from your uncles and aunt to your own brothers and parents.

“Forgive me all, for the tardiness” you gracefully excused yourself as you walked slowly to your place at the table, Luke was quick to react and help you sit beside him, you looked at him with a smile, you were always smiling at him but this time, his cheeks rapidly turned red as he finally took his own seat.

“You look divine, my dear daughter” your mother, Rhaenyra, complimented you and soon everyone else at the table did too. It was so obvious that Lucerys couldn’t keep his eyes away from you,

He was truly at the loss of words by the sight of you and your unique beauty, your clothes accentuated every curve in your body, how your breast were showing from your dress, not too much, but enough to make him want to see more…

What in the fuck was he thinking?!

It was nothing like him to have such sinful thoughts, much less of his sister, but he wasn't looking at you as his beloved sister, but as a woman that awakened a blinding desire.

For the next weeks, Luke tried his best to keep his emotions at bay, but whenever his eyes laid on you, whenever he heard your sweet voice, calling his name, your laugh, anything at all, his knees would shake.

He knew it was best if just focused on his own duties but against his better judgment, he offered to serve as companion and counselor even, in your quest of a suitable husband.

Your mother allowed it, because being rational, Luke was betrothed to Rhaena for long enough to be a good advisor.

What could go wrong?

Basically everything, because now Luke and yourself were practically joint to the hip, always chatting, walking, inspecting suitors.

He would even crack a joke or two about some of your prospects.

“This one isn’t much of a charmer, is he?” He muttered in your ear, making you hold back on a laugh, resulting in a grimace.

“You promised to be nice” you reminded him on the low

“You deserve more than just nice, dove” he said on a more serious note, because truly, he meant it

Lucerys was enjoying his privileged position because he could have you near, but he could not ignore the fact he became jealous of you, whenever a suitor caught your eye or when you were receiving generous gifts and praises of this men.

Because you were the Enchanting Ember. Of course men from all the lands were coming just to have a chance at earning your hand.

Your quest was soon to be over, only three men were left as the legitimate options; so to make something out of this event you had another family reunion.

Evening was going quite nicely, between the chatting, the small dancing and the food, it all seemed to be ending on a very high note.

That was until your drunk uncle Aegon, stood up and dangled his cup up in the air, spilling a few drops of wine on the table cloth.

“I wish to make a toast” Aegon slurred, everyone at the table shared glances between awkwardness and somewhat amusement.

“To my lovely niece Y/N! You have grown quite nicely but soon you’ll become a full woman as a complete stranger puts his cock in your-!”

“We’ve heard enough, Aegon” Alicent deadpanned, sitting him back down.

Everyone in the room went awfully silent and when Luke turned to meet your gaze he only found eyes of deep confusion, you were trying to look at your parents, but they avoided your gaze knowingly.

Had they not explained to you what was supposed to happen when you were married?

Helaena took Aegon back to his chambers and as we was dragged away both Rhaenyra and Daemon tried to approach you, but you took a few steps back.

“I’ll go back to my room” you spoke breaking the absolute silence.

“Y/N…” Rhaenyra murmured, but you ignored her and left the room at a fast pace, Lucerys looked at his mother whom looked awfully troubled.

“I’ll go see her” Luke eased her mother as he followed your steps, as he reached the door to your room he opened it quietly to see you in some sort of wrestle to get your corset out of your body.

Your maidens were a few feet away from you, not sure what to do in this scenario.

“May I?” you jumped, looking at your brother with embarrassment, you slightly nodded, right now the only thing you needed were truly familiar faces.

Luke dismissed your maidens and they closed the door behind them, after being left alone, the black haired prince approached you from behind, resting his hands on your and enclosing them tightly.

“Talk to me, please” he begged

“Luke… I’m not like you or Jace or even Joffrey, my only duty to this realm, to our mother is to marry a good Lord and I don’t even understand what my marital duties entail” you explained distressed and ashamed of yourself.

Lucerys placed his hands on your back, freeing you of the restraining piece of clothing rather easily, then, he exhaled deeply.

“Sex”

He said finally, making you turn in your heels, you were looking for further explanation, because still, the word meant nothing to you.

“You know how you must give birth?” You nodded quietly

“Sex is what a man and a woman must do, so that you are with child” he tried his best to explain as his cheeks were tinted red.

“Okay, but what does the act entail?” You asked, right now he didn’t know what to do, or even what situation was he getting involved in, but out of nervousness his gaze fell on your breast, his eyes went down instinctively scanning the thin fabric of your dress, it would be so easy to…

Then something clicked inside his brain.

“Let me show you” he said.

Before you knew it, you were out of the castle, dressed in the dirty rags pacing down the land in the quiet night.

Until you reached some strange place filled with all men and women. Luke was holding your hand tightly, guiding you.

“Where-“

“Shhh!” Luke shut down almost immediately, you were perfectly hidden in the shadows, your ears pricked as you heard some really strange notices and Lucerys instructed you to take a peak.

What you saw was beyond your wildest dreams, this people were all naked, you saw the men inserting their cock into different holes of the women’s bodies, fingers going in and out, man and women both having their cocks and cunts even on their mouths.

You just could not bring yourself to look away, too impressed with the scenes before you eyes.

The raven boy saw how aroused and mesmerized you were and carefully sneaked his hand inside your garments, causing your breath to become more faltering.

“This is what sex is” Lucerys whispered in a husky voice, his hand found it’s way to your core as he started to place long and sloppy kisses around your neck.

Your whole body was pulsing, tingling, burning all at once, every sensation was new and intoxicating, even when you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his hot breath on your neck, his breathing getting more elaborated, how firmly he was grabbing you.

He was touching and playing with your folds expertly, he wasn’t forceful, instead he was methodical, quiet even as he entered a single finger inside of you.

You had to catch your breath quick, the feeling of his digit inside you in that moment was pure insanity.

“Luke…” you moaned as he pumped up and down into your walls, groaning at how your insides clenched on a single finger of his; the more he pumped, the more your walls were constricting him and even as he heard you moan under your breath, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He plugged his finger out of you, earning a whimper from your lips and then he turned you to face him, to look him in the eyes.

So he could finally kiss you.

It was a kiss full of lust, need and urgency, the kind of urgency only lovers could understand.

Lucerys felt as if he was in Valyria, he was deep into the bliss over the sensation of your lips on his, of your tongues dancing gracefully with one another, he just kept clinging onto you for dear life, drawing you impossibly closer to him.

Out of the lack of oxygen you both pulled away from the kiss, but you were still holding each other.

“Do you want this?” Lucerys asked before this could go to the point of no return. He wanted you, desperately. But he would never do anything you wouldn’t consent to.

“I do” you confirmed, Lucerys felt the air in his lungs almost purifying with your answer, he smiled widely as he took your hand in his again.

“Let us go then, the castle is a better place to fuck” he jokingly said, making you giggle and soon Lucerys was almost dragging you at full speed back into the castle.

This time around though, he led you into his room and as soon as the door closed Luke was all over you.

He kissed you and lifted you from the ground to finally place you on the bed with gently and start removing your clothes one by one, you applied the same principle on him until you were both fully naked.

Both of you took a moment to soak in the sight of the other as all was very new.

“Fucking hell. Your body is utter perfection” he said truly mesmerized.

You blushed madly at his comment, smiling as he sneaked closer and closer to your face, he kissed you softly before going down to your neck, now intently sucking on the your soft skin, while his hand made its way back onto your core.

As Lucerys reached the valley between your breast, so did two of his fingers inside your folds, this time around, your sounds of pleasure were louder, which he absolutely adored.

His fingers were curling and pumping inside your cunt as his mouth was swirling and sucking on your nipples harder and harder.

For the first time in your life, you felt yourself hot and growing wetter under Luke’s skillful ministrations. Your nails were starting to dig into his shoulders, as you couldn’t control the sounds coming out of your mouth.

“God, Luke!” You moaned close to your edge, although you couldn’t put it into words, Lucerys could definitely feel it and so he stopped abruptly.

“Why did you… stop?” you said almost out of breath and notably flustered.

“Because I wish to feast on you” he said smiling wickedly before positioning himself between your legs and pulling your core closer by dragging you down by the ass.

Before you could even let out a sound, Lucerys had started to taste your, running his tongue up and down your folds, poking at your very center with the tip of his tongue, he went in all possible directions, sucking on all the right places.

Out of instinct and completely drunk in the moment you placed your hand on the back of his head, keeping him in place and even pulling him deeper.

“Y-yes! Luke keep g-going!” you begged in ecstasy, a knot was tightening around your stomach and you needed a desperate release.

Lucerys Velaryon was, quiet literally feasting on your juices and no matter how much you squirmed nor moved, the man was on a mission, a mission to make you ride the fuck out of your own ecstasy.

At this point there were no words, just incoherent sounds of absolute pleasure and even as you felt yourself come undone, Lucerys wouldn’t let go and instead, drank every drop of what you had to offer to him.

When he was done, Luke found your eyes, pleased with his doings as he could tell it had been successful to the purpose of making you cum.

The sight of you, glistening in sweat, with heavy breathing and rosy cheeks was arousing to extends he could not describe.

His cock was undoubtedly hard as he towered over you his green eyes seemingly darker and lustful.

“This will hurt, but I promise it won’t take long before it’s pleasure what you feel afterwards” he explained to you calmly, you placed your hands around his neck

“I trust you, Luke” you both smiled at each other and still looking at you in the eye, he positioned himself at your entrance, slowly entering you.

You gasped at the strange sensation of him being inside you and as he went deeper you understood him completely.

You could feel yourself adjusting to his size, and yes, it wasn’t comfortable, truly you did feel a pain you had never felt before.

Luke got your mind of the pain as he kissed you passionately and you reciprocated immediately, his cock went slightly in and out of you, trying to give you time to familiarize yourself to the sense of him fully inside you.

Just like Luke had said, the pain at one point turned to pleasure, your whimpers were now turning into moans as Lucerys placed sweet kisses on your cheek.

“Luke… please fuck me” you pleaded him and he was quick to answer to your command. The future Lord of the Tides held onto your leg, keeping it wrapped around his waist while his other hand held your hip.

His pace was firm and bit by bit he started going faster, being careful not to hurt you but still looking to suffice his hunger and need of you.

His head was buried in the crook of your neck, your eyes were shut in pure bliss and you were dragging your nails up and down his back as Lucerys found your g-spot.

The sounds of pleasure and the act itself echoing the room, you were chanting on each other’s names like a prayer. Your climax came first and not long after Lucerys followed, filling you whole.

As you both breathed heavily, Luke pulled out of you and it was amazing how hollow you now felt without his cock in you.

He reincorporated himself just to grab a fur large enough for the both of you to be covered, he grabbed the fur around him and hugged you inside the blanket keeping you incredibly warm and close. 

“Luke?” You looked up at him

“Yes, dove?”

“It’ll be okay,right?” You asked.

There were a lot of things implied in that question, he knew that well, the honest answer was he didn’t know, he hoped so, but a lot of the things that were implied in that question were very much uncertain, but Lucerys knew that right now, everything was quiet, everything was okay.

So he went with that.

“Of course” he said as relaxed as ever, giving you the peace of mind you needed.

But that, was the last moment of peace the two of you would get.

[jacespookiebear]

ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 6

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, tension, sexual content, age gap (reader is about 2-3 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

Alicent paced across the celebration hall with such eagerness. Organizing many celebrations to be held in the future. Such as your return to King’s Landing— but you weren’t returning for her. You were only returning to celebrate your betrothed’s nameday along arriving with the rest of your family. Usually, she wouldn’t give a damn to make preparations but you were also to be married under the same week as your future husband’s nameday. Alicent wanted it all to be set perfectly, just for you.

“That is not right! I had ask for lilac orchids. If you cannot fulfill your duties, I shall have you removed at once!” Alicent bitterly shouted to the tradesmen, feeling disappointed and stressed to see they had brought white peonies— flowers she clearly did not request.

Talya, The Queen’s handmaiden, arrived quietly in the hall to give her the urgent news she had just received. “My Queen, they have arrived.” Talya muttered closely to Alicent’s ear. Immediately she had stopped ordering the servants and turned her attention to her handmaiden.

“Already!?” She gasped, “I had thought they would arrive on the morrow.” Talya shook her head and within minutes, Alicent left the hall to greet the family. To greet you, specifically.

To her surprise, you all have already been greeted by the King. Although it has only been two years, he was weakening day by day, though still being able to stand on his own.

“My sweet daughters,” the King welcomes you and Rhaenyra in his remaining arm. “I have missed you both.” Alicent watched as tears streamed down your cheeks, smiling towards your father with happiness. She felt immense nostalgia from the way you dressed— you certainly did look the part as the Realm’s Beauty, wearing a dark blue velvety dress with sleeves falling off your shoulders and separate straps connecting from your dress wrapped around your neck. In her early years, she had also wore the proud colors of her husband’s house, but had only done so to appease others around her. But, she couldn’t help to feel that you only done it solely for yourself and to prove you would always state your loyalty to Jacaerys.

“It is a lovely sight to see you all back in King’s Landing,” Alicent interrupted the sweet moment and took the time to hug you. Seconds had passed, you had placed your arms around her. Alicent breathed in your existence, she missed you dearly and now you’re here, at last, just like you said you would.

She desperately wanted whatever had happened between you both two years ago to be pushed away and forget it had ever existed. She wanted you both to savor the relationship, with Rhaenyra— she couldn’t help but feel that your elder sister had probably put a seed in your mind to look at your step-mother differently.

I have missed you, my dearest, that was all Alicent thought about. Finally having you in her arms, where you truly belong.

After what felt like hours, she let go of you and cupped your face to look at you, warmly. Though, you gave her a friendly smile, you pulled away and remained standing right by Lysanna and Daemon’s side, whom looked smug right after you done so. “Forgive the King and I, we had thought you would be arriving later. If I had know you would have arrived much more early, I would have properly prepared the Red Keep.” Alicent maintained a calm composer, ignoring the sly glares that were being given from Rhaenyra and your betrothed. She had motioned for them all to head inside, the Red Keep was still being renovated, she had made sure to have some of her faith hung across the halls.

“You must rest,” she suggested, “we have much to celebrate. But tonight, we shall have a feast to celebrate upon your arrival.” The King nodding happily at the thought. He ordered the knights to lead you all to your temporary chambers.

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“She certainly was happy to see you,” you spoke to Lysanna as you unpacked from your luggages, placing gowns and capes back into your old drawers. “I could’ve sworn I saw a tear streaming down her cheek when you told her you missed her.”

Lysanna scoffed and let out a laugh as well. “She is my cousin, afterall.” that you can agree to, your step-mother was family whether you want to disagree or not. Even if she held dislike towards your sister, she held adoration for you and Lysanna.

“If only we could be in the North as we are speaking,” you spoke up, Lysanna turned to you, “your brother is lucky to live far away from the South..”

Before Lysanna could have answer back, your chamber doors were knocked and opened without even announcing themselves. You saw your youngest brother, Daeron, who was smiling ear to ear to see you. The scowl you wore for being interrupted immediately replaced with a bright smile and you ran to leap into your brother’s arms.

“Daeron!”

“Sister!”

Your brother wrapped his arms around you tightly, afraid to let go. You had not seen your brother since he was about nine, went off to be the squire of the Lord Hightower in Oldtown. You had only heard from him whenever he written to his mother, he became very strong with the sword and had the chance to bond with a dragon, Tessarion, before he left. He was always gentle and caring, more sweeter than his other brothers but still held no liking to your elder sister and her family.

“I had him return to King’s Landing to attend your wedding,” Alicent spoke, with her hands clasped, she was arrived in your chambers behind Daeron, whom was only ten-and-third but still loomed over you and your step-mother. He was getting much taller. “I wanted the whole family to be here to watch you marry under the seven.”

Oh. You felt yourself clench your hand in anger from what she had said. You wanted to scream and yell at her face. It is my marriage, not yours!

“It seems we need to discuss more of my wedding.” you coldly stated, bringing your attention on Daeron once more who continued to smile. He had no clue on your underlying bitterness towards Alicent.

“I have missed you, dear brother.” Both of you beaming with happiness to finally be reunited with one another. With swiftness, you brought Daeron towards Lysanna, “I shall speak with the Queen, you must catch up with your relative, it has been quite a long time since you both had seen each other as well.” Lysanna quickly hugged Daeron with tight grip, the two were always so rough with each other when they were younger.

“It is good to see you, cousin!” Lysanna happily chirped. You excused them to find Helaena as you stayed behind with your step-mother.

“My dearest-“

“I want all of us to meet. Now.” you resisted her touches and walked out to find Rhaenyra and Daemon. Your father was already ill but still insisted to attend the continued preparations. As you arrived in their chambers, you apologized to interrupt their resting, considering Rhaenyra is heavily pregnant but she was quick to come to your rescue, they were both very serious about your worries and did not hesitate.

You all sat in the council room, you were sitting with Rhaenyra and Daemon across from Alicent with the King sitting in his seat that was always placed in the middle end of the table. You had not planned to have Jace attend— noting he wouldn’t have arrived anyways but in moments, you were surprised when he barged in the room,

“Excuse my tardiness,” Jace announced and sat next to you, happy to see that he arrived even without being called to attend. “I had not been told to attend but I will make the effort for my betrothed.”

Alicent grimaced when he called you his betrothed but none the less, she cleared her throat and joined her hands together to begin the meeting.

You leaned to whisper in Jace’s ear, “how did you know we were meeting?”

“I’m here now. That’s all that matters.” Jace answered. You didn’t mind his explanation, his existence already reassured your feelings and helped you relax a little.

“I believe I have said this before. I shall have it repeated. They will be married under the Seven,” your step-mother stated, her joined hands planted on the table. She clearly wanted no negotiation on how your wedding would be customized. 

Rhaenyra sighed, Daemon let out a scoff at her audacity, “This is a Targaryen marriage, let you be reminded, my Queen. My sister is not a believer of the Seven, she puts her faith in the Valyrian Gods.”

Alicent did not budge, relaxing into her seat a little, “My eldest daughter deserve a wedding that will have many witnesses. Her siblings were married under the faith as well. She should not have to hide in Dragonstone to wed and I have not yet accepted her marrying Jacaerys-“

“My niece does not share blood with you, let it be known once more,” Daemon seethed, his words dripping with venom, “You did not birth her, the Late Queen Aemma whom suffered long hours in labor, only to be cut open like a helpless pig. She would have wanted her daughter to have this.” That immediately shut your step-mother up. You saw how she took a big gulp after being reminded that you were not her trueborn daughter. But not only those words reached over to Alicent, it put you, Rhaenyra, and Viserys in a emotional and awkward state. You brought your hand over to your face to avoid any quivering to be seen from the mention of how your mother died.

Alicent cleared her throat— trying to recover from the sadden reality check she was given by Daemon. “I suppose it is only right for the King to make the decision…” your father slightly lit up at how Alicent let him have the right to make the decision for you all. He turned to make eye contact with you and saw how visibly upset you looked.

You were surprised on how she gave in so easily. Your step-mother had only been insufferable about your wedding for years before she gave it up to have your father finally have a choice in the matter. “If my daughter wishes for an Old Valyrian wedding then I don’t see why not.” Viserys calmly stated, coughing into his handkerchief once more. At his words, your spirits were lifted and smiled at your father. But your step-mother did not seem to be too happy, her frown was noticed from you and your sister.

Rhaenyra seeming to not be so pleased of your step-mother being upset, “I am sure we can come to some sort of agreement,” your sister offered, turning to you for your approval and you let her continue to hear what she had to say, “It would not be official but we can have another wedding under the seven— no one should be allowed to attend except our family, of course. I will only propose it if my son and sister is willing to allow it.”

It did not make you upset at the proposal but having to negotiation on your own wedding did. But from the delighted smile on your step-mother’s face from the offer, you couldn’t help but nod your head once more to agree, as you gave your answer, you felt angry at yourself for letting your step-mother have her way like always. But yet, she just looked so happy as well as your father who seemed delighted to hear you and your sister wanted to consider Alicent’s feelings even with what happened two years ago, but Daemon and Jace seemed to not be so onboard with the idea.

Your step-mother looked surprised, a grateful smile danced on her face, “I am grateful for your proposal. Thank you, Princess.” she graciously thanked and Rhaenyra gave a slight smile.

“A sweet proposition!” Viserys praised.

Jacaerys looked helpless, he’d never been reduced to a simple watcher before. You wanted to comfort him while your father began speaking about Jace’s wedding robes and which colors he should wear. It was his wedding as well and yet no one had asked him what he wanted.

“I’ll accompany the Princess on her fitting with the Seamstress.”

“My grandson should have the robes that I wore in my wedding.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t fit him, brother.”

“I shall have my cousin, Lord Stark, to prepare Winterfell for the newlyweds quickly.”

“Will he be attending my grandson’s nameday?”

At last, they all seemed to be in a agreement with each other. It all left a neutral look on everyone’s face besides Jace. He did not look happy like everyone else. Even if he wished to speak up on his wishes for his weddings, he did not know what to say. He did not like how you or his mother had negotiated or how they continue to let the woman who used her position and power to ruin his family’s lives, to say he was angry was an understatement.

As you pardoned yourself and head to your chambers to retire, he followed you with the intention of talking with you.

You turned, continuing to walk, “You should be heading to your chambers. Are you alright?” As you finished speaking, you arrived in your chambers and allowed him to come in. You only expected him to wish you well night rest.

“You’re allowing her to have what she wants. Once again.”

You whipped your head around quickly from his words. Jace looked back with annoyance as you looked with confusion. You both seemed to be feeling alright in the council, now you felt that there was tension between you both.

“If you disagreed with the idea then you should have said your piece,” you reminded Jace, he scoffed in return. “you had only disregarded this wedding many times and now you seem to care?!”

He sighed, “Of course I had cared! I wanted you— only you to prepare our wedding. You had the chance to finally have full control of,” his words made you bite your lip, he was right. “That woman had humiliated us for years..you are letting her remain in power even in our marriage!”

You turned, facing him completely, you stepped closer to him, face now only inches apart, “What else can I do, Jacaerys?! She is close that I have to a mother. Let it be reminded that she is still the Queen.”

“Not only days ago, you held distaste for her!” He shouted, “You do not defend yourself, me, or our family when it comes to her.”

You resisted the urge to slap him, “I had done so much for us! This wedding..I thought this is what you wanted!”

For a moment, Jace was taken aback from what you had said. Utterly shocked was his emotions.

“I wanted nothing but your love.”

Your face softened from his words. Within moments, his arms sneak around your waist and hold you affectionately. “For years, Ñuha hūra qēlossās, I yearned for your love and now I was given the chance by the Old Gods to relish in it.” The memory of younger Jace wishing to confess to you in the future was running in your mind, remembering his words: “I will tell you when I am of age, so please wait until then.” Hot tears finally streaming down your face from his words. He gently wiped them off your cheeks, “You and I were meant to burn together.”

You sobbed, stepping away from him, it wounded him deeply once you left his arms but you had no choice. “Please do speak no more..” creating space between you both, it felt wrong to be apart from each other this long.

His face fell and the sight made you want to bury yourself alive for the way you were beginners to hurt him, wounding his heart all because you were not sure. “You share the same feelings as do I, do you not?”

The silence from you was furthering his heart to shatter, to break into two. The heart that belonged to you and only you. Why were you not saying anything?

“Please, my love,” Jace begged, closing the space between you both, holding onto your hands so desperately— almost falling to his knees, “please tell me that you feel the same.”

Jace’s mind was racing. He had always thought you shared love for him as well. Why else would you spur his name towards the Queen on a suitor, or how you would always call him your sun, or how you would allow him to show his affections nearly everywhere, and even when Meraxes allowed Vermax to show his love for her so loudly around Dragonstone that it became clear to Jace that they were the sign of your love for one another. Was he wrong? This whole time, he was wrong?

“Does it not bother you?” you finally asked him, “I had helped raise you..”

Is that why you are in such denial of your feelings towards Jace? No matter how much you might love him, you would still see him as the young boy you had watched over all your life and called him your nephew. But he will no longer be your sweet nephew after four days.

Your words appear to sting Jace and wound him so deeply, from the betrayed look on his face. What was the difference? His mother married her uncle, they’re happily together and inlove.

“Does it really matter?”

“Of course it matters!”

From the tone of your voice, he nodded, only bringing you closer to him. For a moment you had tried to lean away but failed once he placed his hands on your cheeks, continued to wipe your tears away. “Not once have I ever been ashamed of my love for you.” 

His touch was a touch you had yearned for years. The gentleness and sweetness that it came with was reassuring, you were not used to it. From what you were used to was harsh and rough, usually received by your brother, Aegon, whom never held any sort of respect towards you but viewed you as his potential maiden he can abuse whenever he wanted. Everything you wanted in a man was standing right in front of you and yet you pulled away.

Why were you so afraid? This is what you had always wanted right? To be married to the right man and to have sweet children who will turn out right. To be married by your choice and not by duty.

“We shall continue to talk on the morrow.” With that you said nothing else. You stood your place and refused to shed more tears. You watched as Jace was hit with realization. Realizing that you weren’t going to speak anymore or return your feelings. He stepped back and his face was clearly written with hurt all over.

Jace turned to leave your chambers and once he had left, you broke down in continued tears. You broke down into messy sobs, feeling so alone and hurt. Your glassy violet eyes watching the door— thinking about chasing after him. Your eyes begin to dry, rimmed with redness and puffy, you were so conflicted and hated yourself for being so confusing, you wished you had the courage to declare how much you do care for him. But you could not, you were too late, he now thinks you do not love him.

As you continued to cry in your chambers, unknowingly to you— Jace remained behind your doors and hearing it all, salty tears swelling in his eyes. You both cried for each other, yearning for each other’s warmth with the door separating you two.

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“The design…” Alicent eyed your wedding gown, the seamstress was still needling the gown while you were dressed in it, stepping on the high stool as you were studied by your step-mother and sister, they both shared slight distaste for the gown. Lysanna was behind you with your wedding robe to be tried on.

“It is not quite finished yet, my Queen,” the seamstress announced, she placed more needles around the bottom of your gown. You were mesmerized by the gown, it was your step-mother who prepared this gown for you, you had to admit how she perfectly knew what you preferred and what not you preferred. The red lining on the white dress and golden accents were beautiful, the designs of Meraxes on your gown made you beam with excitement. You hate to admit how much step-mother knows about you even though you are still upset with her, she was the reason why you and Jace are having a rough patch.

“Let’s have you try on the robes, hm?” Rhaenyra asked as you quickly nodded, excited to see how they looked while Alicent spoke with the seamstress to have a cape sewn in on your sleeves. Lysanna helped you out of your gown before helping you into the robes. It looked gorgeous, the robes had blue and black as the main colors to represent House Velaryon and Targaryen.

You turned to face your family and they only had given you a smile. It was surprising to see Alicent cooperate and be less vicious to Rhaenyra but perhaps they put their differences aside for your weddings. “You look beautiful, my dearest,” Alicent complimented to which Rhaenyra wholeheartedly agreed. “And what of the headpiece? When will it be finished? Her wedding is in days, let you be reminded!” the seamstress moved quickly across the room to fetch the matching headpieces she had made for you and Jace, handing Alicent yours and she quickly placed it on your head.

It was perfect. Everything was perfect. Except you could not shake away the guilt that was burning inside you from what had happened last night. You and Jace have not spoken to each other since, he was off preparing for his celebration feast that was happening tonight, with Daemon and your father, Viserys. Nobody knew what had happened between the both of you but everyone in the Keep could all feel the tension.

Alicent soon became concerned and remembered, “The gown will be finished before the wedding, I hope?”

“For the heir and his future Queen’s wedding? I will have it finished before the evening,” the seamstress insisted.

You stepped down from the stool after having the robes be taken off of you. You watched as your step-mother place a bag of coins in the seamstress’ hands for her time and hardwork. While your sister graciously thanked her, you all said your farewell before leaving the room. You planned to meet Lysanna in your chambers to help each other with the gowns for tonight.

“Would you like for me to help you pick a gown for the feast?” Alicent placed a cold hand on your shoulder but you shook your head and gave her a friendly smile,

“Liz is helping me,” you answered, “she is helping with my hair as well.”

Rhaenyra nodded from your answer and placed a sweet kiss on your forehead. “I shall see you at the feast, sweet sister.”

“Thank you, Nyra.” you smiled while she scurried off to her chambers, you were standing alone with your step-mother, awkwardly. “Then I shall depart as well-“

With swiftness, you stopped your step-mother from leaving and she gave you a confused look but quickly was replaced with surprise once you shoved yourself into her embrace. Hugging her so tightly, you were scared she would be crushed. But quickly enough, she held onto you as well, possibly her grip was more tighter than yours. “I’ve missed you, my dearest love,” she voiced gently, genuinely terrified to let go of you.

“I have missed you,” you admitted, cried softly. Not caring with what Ladies or Lords around the halls are witnessing.

She didn’t waste a second to kiss your head gingerly and hush you like you were still a baby. “My sweet, miracle girl. What is wrong?”

You couldn’t answer her, instead you buried yourself deeper into your step-mother’s shoulder, the tears continued falling from your eyes, as you breathed in the scent of the Keep. You had not understand why you were suddenly missing your step-mother. In seconds, your step-mother brought you back inside your chambers, pleading to Lysanna to be excused and come back later. She sat you on your bed, helping you loosen your gown to feel more comfortable.

“We had a fight”, you confessed, you saw how she wanted you to continue about why, “about you.”

Alicent looked at you— confused, soon realizing what you had meant. Now understanding why you had looked so gloomy this morning, eye bags and a grim frown danced on your face. “Oh,” she muttered, “I am sorry.” you shook your head, not believing her apology, “No..really, my dearest, I am.”

“He is rather angry with me to know that I have gave you an opportunity to have a part in our wedding.” Her face seeming to hold some sort of guilt, “He’s seething with envious to know that no matter how much I hold hatred, fear, and disgust towards you..I will always find my way back to you, to please you, and to make you part of my life.”

To know that even if you hate her, you would always keep her in your heart. Why? Because she was there for you since you were born, had raised you like her own. You were always her little girl and will forever be her little girl. As much as Alicent despises Rhaenyra and her family, she had learned to accept that you were always apart of her family, she chooses to understand Jace’s anger.

At that you sat on the large bed with your mother, placing your head onto her lap as she soothed you to comfort, humming. You let yourself breathe in and breathe out to calm your nerves, silently sobbing while she whispered sweet nothings into your head, rocking you back and forth. You are ten-and-seventh, and yet you still loved being babied by your step-mother. Moments like this had you wishing that your mother was alive, you only relied on memories and stories told by your father and sister, sometimes your step-mother would tell you how much of a mother she saw in her when she was younger. It was sure by day that she would’ve loved you so much— you and your twin brother, you grieved for them everyday. You could only meet your mother in your dreams but that was more than enough, or that was you just lying to yourself for hope it’ll help ease your curiosity of your mother.

But it was okay, you knew you still had your step-mother, “Sweetest,” she cooed, kissing your forehead lightly, her kisses made you melt with warmth, you had missed this so dearly. “He will come to his senses soon. He won’t hold anger over you forever. He adores you.”

“That is what’s wrong, mama,” you whispered, you pinched yourself to calm your growing anxiety but it was not working, instead you twiddled with your rings, “I have led him to believe that I do not love him. He is rightfully hurt and I do not know what to say..”

Closing your eyes, breathing in the air before you spoke your truth. “My marriage has already ended before it even started.”

Alicent held your face, squishing your cheeks, your sad and heartbreaking eyes left her feeling more sorrow for you. “My dearest, you are no fool. It can be savored, tell me, truthfully, do you carry such love and devotion for Jacaerys as he has for you?”

Her question made you begin to wonder. You had always tried convincing yourself this betrothal was good for the family, for the House. It saved you from marrying your brother, loveless marriage or an abusive one with a high Lord who only wanted you for your Valyrian blood. But really, you knew deep down it was otherwise, no matter how much you wanted to convince yourself and others around you that you and Jace were always just family, it pained you tremendously. You weren’t as confident as he was when admitting his love for you— you didn’t know what to say or do. But you knew your heart belonged to him and only him, it was only right for you to make it up to your lover and it was only right to do it quick.

“I do,” you sighed, exhaustedly, leaning into your step-mother’s hold on your cheeks, “I love him with my whole heart. But I fear he may not want to hear it after what I done.” You had finally admit your love for Jacaerys.

Alicent let out a soft chuckle, getting up from her seat on your bed and straightening her gown, “Believe my words when I speak them, my sweet girl. He will be contented.” slightly smiling at the reassurance she tried giving you. You heard a knock on your chamber doors and it was Liz. To help you with your gown and hair for tonight, of course you let her in and dismissed with your step-mother.

You sat down at your vanity, quietly. Trying to think what to do tonight to apologize to Jace and express your true feelings for him. Waiting for Lysanna to start helping you, she noticed your dreary mood.

“Your eyes are swollen,” Lysanna pointed out and rubbed her cold hands over your face, it startled you which made her laugh. “I won’t ask what happened.”

Feeling a little better while she worked to braid your hair and wrap behind your head, leaving most of your hair down that were stylishly curled. “Have you ever been inlove, Liz?” you whispered, your eyes trained on her from the mirror, she looked rather stunned from your question. Worried you touched a sensitive topic but you wished for some sort of help from her, she was the closest companion you had and probably could relate to your troubles.

“Once.” Lysanna answered, truthfully. She brought over a bright red gown with gold trimming on the front of the gown and around the breast area, the sleeves reached mid arm and had fabric cascading from behind the ending of the sleeves. Though it looked magnificent and appeared to be the dress your step-mother picked out for you, you were not in love with how simple it was…or the color for that matter.

“He was my father’s squire. Much more older than I was at the time,” she helped you out of your pink gown and carefully put you into the red and gold one before starting to tie the laces for tightening. “The lad had dismissed my existence while he stayed in Winterfell, it broke my little heart. All of my hopes and dreams of marrying him disappeared when he left to arrive back to his home. My brother told me he left because his father had betrothed him to a lady from House Baratheon. That was the only time I had ever seen myself marrying for love, not for duty.”

At the newfound information, you frowned. Liz had only arrived to King’s Landing at the age of ten to be your lady-in-waiting. She has been your companion for so long and yet has never thought of marriage ever again. In a way, she was like you, the comfortable atmosphere around you both certainly helped you become more closer to the Stark girl.

“Do you long for home, Liz?”

“Most days I do. Why do you ask?”

“I long for home too.”

Your answer reached Liz’s understanding on what you truly meant. You knew she would understand. You both meant the exact same thing— not the home you grew up in, the home you had known all your lives. The home you desired for, a dream that you hoped to come true, a home that was far away from this place, a home where you could stay for the rest of your days and do whatever you wished. Where you were truly happy and safe.

You were finishing getting ready but you decided to take a few more minutes to help Lysanna with her gown, sure you both would have been late to the celebration but you wanted more time with her. Usually, Lysanna wore grey gowns with sigils stitched of House Stark but she started wearing appropriate gowns for the spring time, dark purples and flowery gowns looked amazing on her. You had her wear a pink patterned gown with much yellow accents and put her hair in a similar hairstyle to what she placed you in, but you wrapped the braids around the crown of her head to make a braid crown.

“Beautiful.” You complimented, Lysanna happily giggling at your words. You both left the chambers and made your way to the Hall where all celebrations and feasts are held. Tonight, not only they would be celebrating the nameday of your betrothed, but the celebration of your betrothal.

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Rhaenyra sat on the other end of the long table with Daemon, Lucerys, and Rhaena while waiting for Rhaenys who had came with Baela right by her side as well as her brother-in-law and her House since Lord Corlys was still at sea, in battle. Alicent and her family occupied the other end of the table while you and Jacaerys were supposed to be seated in the middle with the King, he was there but you were nowhere to be found. Nor was Lysanna.

“Where is my sister?” Rhaenyra whispered to Daemon, as if he would know where you were. He turned to look around the Hall, where many Houses with their Lords and Ladies were crowding. He did not find you but Lysanna was rushing through the crowd to be seated at the table. Rhaenyra had wanted to ask Lysanna where you were but Alicent got to her first. She whispered into her ear and after gaining a response from Lysanna, she looked relieved.

Lysanna made her way to sit next to Lucerys, the young boy quickly became flustered after receiving a smile from her. “Liz, where is the Princess?” Rhaenyra lightly whispered across, not wanting Jacaerys to hear so he wouldn’t panic, but he certainly would not react at the mention of you.

“She’s arriving soon. She had asked me to not wait on her, and went back to her chambers for something.” Lysanna answered truthfully. Rhaenyra was worried, Viserys was about to start his speech right about now.

Everyone had finally seated, once they had all sat, Viserys weakly got up and began his speech. But before he could even speak a word, you came in through the doors in a much different dress than the one you were previously wearing. A lavishing off-shouldered blue gown with ruffles lining across your collarbone, a lighter blue cape connecting around your sleeves, the patterns on the dress seemed to be in favor of House Velaryon and as well as the pearl jewelry that were around your neck and pinned between your ears. You wore the rings given by your father.

“Princess Y/n of House Targaryen, The Realm’s Beauty and the future Queen Consort.”

The knight announced your presence loudly, while everyone had got up from their seat once more to honor you. You had received the most happiest grin from the King and Rhaenyra’s family while you received a surprised look from your step-mother. Your betrothed’s eyes lit up for a moment once you had entered the hall, surely they all expected you to show up in your house colors but tonight you were here for Jace and only Jace. But he wasn’t the only one who seemed to be contented, the Queen who never was certainly pleased to see you show support to her and her husband’s House.

You climbed up the stairs and as you made your way to sit next to Jace, you placed a sweet kiss on his cheek while they all clapped. The King declared for everyone to be seated once again.

“As we all join together for another celebration. Tonight, we celebrate my grandson, the future heir to the Iron Throne, ten-and-fourth nameday.” Viserys announces loudly, to that, they all clapped once more. You gave Jace a warm smile—received nothing but a firm nod. Taking a sip from your glass, you almost felt all of your confidence drain out of you when he barely acknowledged you. “Not only we celebrate his nameday, we celebrate yet another betrothal between House Targaryen and House Velaryon, united once more. With my grandson, your future Queen’s heir— whom to be your future King, and with my second eldest daughter, your future Queen Consort. Let us celebrate!”

You gently clapped your hands and smiled towards your father who remained his eyes on you and Jace. As everyone all clapped again, music began to play, guests beginning to dig in their meals while you sat there, looking throughout the Hall until you were interrupted by a noise and saw Jace held his hand out for you.

Oh. The first dance of the evening.

Quickly you took his hand and was lead to the floor. Hesitating to take the lead, from your lover’s stance, he was much more confident to lead. As the music danced around you both, you cleared your throat and whispered towards him:

“We must talk.” you muttered as he circled you before you both appeared behind each other with your arms out.

“There’s no reason for us to talk, Auntie.” His words seethed with venom, you grimaced at the way he called you his aunt— not what you were used to. You both continued to dance away from each other and reuniting once more in the middle.

“I understand your anger, Jace,” you pleaded, you were desperate to make amends but it was not looking so good. “I realized my mistakes and I want to apologize.”

The dance was coming to an end and he harshly grabbed you, “You’re not forgiven.” He whispered down into your ear, lifting you in the air as you dropped on the floor before everyone clapped for you and Jace. He left you on the dancefloor by yourself until Lords and their Ladies crowded you. Watching him walk back to his seat without a care, you never felt so rejected and afraid until now. It shattered your heart as he changed his demeanor when he started talking with Baela. This was your fault, you must fix it. You were feeling defeated but snapped out of your thoughts when you felt a nudge on your shoulder,

“May I have a dance with the Princess?”

You wanted to politely refuse the young Lord but soon you realized it was not a young Lord, when you turned around you were facing the Lord of the North, Cregan Stark. Lysanna was watching with excitement to see you with her brother, she was so happy to hear from him that he would be attending. In a matter of seconds you begun dancing with him. Stealing glances over to him, you noticed how handsome he looked (though you could never admit that out loud.) He towered over you so easily— feeling rather short when next to him. His defined and mature looks, his furs that were draped over his shoulders made him look more masculine than any of the men that were in the Hall. The confidence in his stance was just the icing on the cake, everything about this man made you weak in the knees.

Recovering very soon from your ogling to the Lord of Winterfell, “It is a pleasant surprise to see you here tonight, my Lord,” you muttered, lifting your head after giving him a small nod out of respect, the older man gave you a light laugh from how you forgot your position. Grasping his hands around your waist, you let out a surprised gasp from how gentle he held you as he lifted you up in the air.

“It was my sister who asked of me.” He stated his reasoning, he helped you from the air to land you on the floor. That’s right, Lysanna had wrote many letters each month to her brother on any events happening and what was happening in her life, currently. It was a big surprise to see House Stark show up to any celebration that was held in King’s Landing due to them being in the North, it takes over a month to just travel here.

“Liz has always mentioned you, you are admirable, Lord Stark.” you were soon to be growing your confidence back, you were happy to be able to find comfort with a new friend you had made with the Lord Stark. Hoping he was enjoying your company as well.

Unknowing to you or the Lord of Winterfell, you were being watched not just by Lysanna but by your betrothed. Jace clenching his jaw as watched you enjoy the newfound company as you continued to dance with Cregan and laugh with him even though the dance floor was changing partners. Jace didn’t want to admit it, you looked like a divine goddess, he was mesmerized by your beauty that he almost forgot he was unhappy with you. But his grumpy mood soon came back after watching you dance with the Warden of the North while knowing he was an old potential suitor of yours.

It appeared that partners were changing soon, truthfully, you did not want to split up. You liked the friendly atmosphere you were able to make with him. “You honor me, my Princess. Please refer me as Cregan.” In awe at how he already wanted to be on first name basis. Before you could split apart, he gave your hand a kiss out of respect, “Congratulations, your betrothed appears to already be a strapping lad. Winterfell awaits for your arrival.” His manners made you shamelessly stare while being split up from the change of partners, grumbling once you realized Lord Baratheon became your partner, excusing yourself to return to your table. Happily eating the lemon cakes and toffee puddings that were offered.

“Sister! You must see the gift me and Daeron had prepared for your wedding.” Helaena quickly came up to you with Daeron by her side, holding a neatly rolled art piece that was collected specifically for you. You laid your eyes upon it with content, they knew how much you were into collecting art pieces, especially ones that were historical and ancient. You couldn’t wait to hang it up on your chamber walls with the rest of your collected art pieces.

You placed the art piece by your side and gave a genuine smile to your siblings for their sweet and thoughtful gift. “It is an amazing gift, my sweets. Thank you..”

“We had it exported from Essos,” Daeron explained, you assumed so since the paper was more softer than any art from Westeros. Your brother was explaining more in-depth with where the art piece came from. Helaena was telling you how happy she was when she got her hands on it as Rhaena asked to look at the art, handing her the paper, she looked so mesmerized by the colors.

You bid them off with a tight hug and a sweet kiss on their cheeks. Watching them sit back down at their seat, conversing with one another. Your gaze was soon locked with your young brother, Aemond. While Aegon, had run off to drink away and stare hungrily at the servant maids, making a complete utter fool out of himself. Your brother watched you from the side of the long table, your eyes began to sadden as you realized this was the first interaction you ever had with Aemond since two years ago, after the scary incident. He finally tore his gaze away from you and quickly your mood was ruined, once more. This is was a different kind of rejection, rejected by your betrothed and now rejected by your sweet brother, whom was the closest brother to you since children.

How could this night be so cruel to you? This was supposed to be a feast of celebration for Jace’s nameday but you could not hold your happiness anymore. As you’re drowning in your sorrow, Jace was drowning in his as well. He gave you a quick look before turning away once you noticed, you opened your mouth to say something but immediately closed it. Let him celebrate his nameday in peace, you thought, let him have no more worries for the rest of the night.

Your gaze was shifted to Lysanna, who was dancing with her brother and Luke, they all looked so jolly and contented.

Oh how you wished you were feeling those emotions right now.

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I made this chapter longer than the others because I felt bad for taking so long to update😔 I’m sorry! But omg we get sm angst, muahahahahaha😈 yes I love angst, it’s amazing and horrible at the same time. Anyways shoutout to Cregan writers, YALL ARE SAVING ME IN THE CREGAN X READER TAG!!🙏‼️

taglist (woohoo!): @sigynxlokiwifelover @l-3-e @audigay @urmomsgirlfriend1 @cold-v0dka @cookielovesbook-akie @theoriginalwife000 @xoxovenusquinn(would not let me tag u:( @ghalakgx (would not let me tag:( @neenieweenie @classysassynabitsmartassy @generousbearwolflight @gariben @si1versamurai @deltamoon666 @aemondssiut (would not let me tag u:( @thelastemzy @ryantryan6969 @topazy @starogeorgina @infinitleyethereal @speedypeter @dramaroomrat @potatolady189 (would not let me tag u:( @zzz000eee @parkchaeyoung1997 @jaehyunyah

[loko4koko]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ex-husband!Matsukawa Issei x f!reader ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

>fanart_credit: Okeidohan (via_twitter)

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 6521

>contents: angst w/ a happy ending, reader on a date with an unnamed oc, alcohol mentions (minor), mattsun being a lil cocky and a lil toxic and a lot possessive, (barely there) hanamaki cameo, brief slut-shaming(ish) moment from reader’s date, fingering (f!receiving), talks of masturbation, squirting, creampie, (minor) breeding kink, multiple orgasms, (minor) overstimulation

there were few things in this life that truly, unequivocally irritated you: traffic, gross coffee, and your ex-husband were a few of the major ones that came to mind. it’d been 8 months since you officially became a “ms.“ again and not “mrs. matsukawa,” and yet the man you’d said your vows to still managed to irk your every nerve. sending you silly memes, calling to talk about his day, offhand flirty comments in your ear like you were still together. it was all so damn maddening.

it was funny, actually, how much he continued to bother you when he was the one who wanted the divorce in the first place. it devastated you, shattered you, when it happened. no one expects for their husband to come home, sit them down and tell them, “this isn’t working anymore.” you didn’t understand at first, how he could say such a thing, when everything felt perfectly fine. but he “wasn’t truly ready” for this and he was “sorry, so sorry for hurting you.” you asked if it was a cover story- if he’d really just been cheating on you and couldn’t bring himself to tell you about his mistress, but he denied the allegations through and through. it almost made it worse, then, that it wasn’t a matter of him falling for another, but just him simply not wanting to be your husband anymore. it ruined you for months, cost you sleep and so many “sick days” from work that you’d almost lost your job. but after a while, you knew you had no choice other than to accept it, move on, get yourself back together again.

moving on is what you’re trying to do right now, actually. seated in a booth at a low lit restaurant, you laugh as the man in front of you tells some story about an outraged lunatic of a client he recently had to deal with at his job. he’s pleasant- easy on the eyes, very sweet, and a real gentleman. it’s your first date with him, your fourth since the divorce, and it was going well so far. it’d been a long time since you were on the scene, only having been married to issei for just over a year, but the two of you had dated for almost 3 before he proposed. it was difficult at first, to dip your toes back into the proverbial dating pool, but you were handling it nicely. the first few men that you’d gone out with ended up not working out, obviously- all for different reasons- but this one wasn’t too bad.

he’s pouring more sake into your glass when you see something familiar out of the corner of your eye, something that makes your heart want to choose between stopping or beating straight out of your chest. you try to calm yourself, tell your brain to stop playing tricks on you and that you’re just seeing things, but then you realize that you aren’t, that you can’t lie to yourself. there’s a mess of black hair on a tall figure, one with their back towards you only briefly before they turn around and you see a face you hadn’t quite expected to see today, let alone here in the restaurant your date chose.

it’s issei, it’s your ex-husband, it’s the man who tore your poor little heart into pieces, right in front of your eyes. you’ve never been terribly religious but you are right now, silent prayers sent up that he hadn’t noticed you- hadn’t noticed that you’re here on a date.

it’d been a few weeks since you’d seen him, when he called about some mail of yours that got sent to his home- your last address. he was as vexing as he usually was, telling you that if you’d wanted it, you’d better come get it soon before it ended up in the trash, so of course you’d hopped into your car later that evening after work. it was a dirty trick, you’d realized in retrospect. issei was an ass but he wasn’t so terrible that he’d throw your stuff away. however, he was so terrible that he’d convince you to hurry to his home under a guise so that he could (attempt to) entice you in with talks of a new bottle of sake. he was shameless, well and truly shameless, but you were unmoved, denying his offer with thanks for it, for keeping your mail out of the trash as you collected the envelopes and walked right back out.

you’re trying your best- to not alarm your date, to not draw issei’s attention, to not have a goddamn brain aneurysm. your date is asking you about your own line of work and you begin to explain, a welcome distraction from the situation at hand. you spare a glance in the direction that your ex-husband was seated- not alone but with his pink-headed best friend, another man you’ve known for too many years, and you find yourself having to look immediately in the opposite direction. issei’s looking at you, they both are, albeit with different expressions on their familiar faces. hanamaki’s is a little stunned, it seems that your look in their direction confirmed to him that it is you, but the other… the man you used to be married to has a head tilted in curiosity, eyes narrowed and a smirk on his lips that you hate to see right now. fuck. fuckfuckfuck.

you give your date a small smile, excusing yourself to the restroom as you grab your purse, willing yourself to walk as normally as you can even though you want to bolt. you’re relieved to be alone in the space, fingers gripping the edge of the sink as you stare into your own eyes. “this can’t be fucking happening..” you say to yourself, but you know that’s a falsehood to keep calm. you take a moment to breathe in deep, wet a paper towel with some cool water to dab on your neck and chest.

it’d been a few minutes and you don’t want the man you’re seated with to be concerned, so you do your best to get it together quickly and make your way back out to the dining area. only you can’t do that, because as you leave the bathroom, your exit is blocked by the lanky nuisance you call your ex-husband. you’re frozen, stopped dead in your tracks at the unexpected roadblock of a man. neither of you speak, your eyes set on his face as his own roam your figure, and you almost regret wearing a dress so formfitting, so low-cut.

“hey, babe,” issei finally says, a picture of smugness and it has your eyes rolling, moving to brush past him but no, no, he won’t let you.

“i am absolutely not doing this with you right now. what are you even doing here? what do you want?” you ask, exasperation evident in your tone.

“what, i can’t even say hi now? see you’re on a date- quite the looker, too. not as much as me, though, that’s for sure.” you’re in disbelief- real, unbridled disbelief at the man before you. there’s just no way he’s serious right now! first, he rudely blocks your path, but now he’s taken to belittling your innocent date?

“you are something else, issei,” you snort, shaking your head, “you do remember that you’re the one who wanted me to sign those papers, right? not the other way around. now if you’ll excuse me, i have a date to get back to. and don’t- don’t do anything stupid.” you slip away before he can say anything else, relaxing your face so as to not raise any questions as you sit back in your seat. you apologize for the delay, reaching for the menu and asking your date what kind of meal he plans on ordering.

an uneventful bit of time passes and you’re fine again, sharing more sake and offering food from each other’s plates to try. you almost forget about the intrusion from a little while ago, keyword there being almost. every now and then you can see issei in your peripheral vision, and damn near every time, his eyes are on you. it’s hard to ignore but you’re doing it, until the last time you look and he’s much, much closer. your eyes widen and you’re subtly shaking your head at the man, but it’s too late, his mind is made up and he approaches your table with a wink that only you can see.

“oh, hey! it’s crazy seeing you here,” issei starts, and the way your name falls from his lips is far too familiar, far too cordial for your taste. “another date already? thought we’d had a good time the other night, i know i did. i mean, we practically broke my bed frame. hey pal, just a warning but this one gets crazy in bed- a real nasty girl, i’m tellin’ ya.” your date looks absolutely appalled, scandalized even, but issei..issei is fucking beaming. there’s revulsion in your date’s eyes and you’re not sure who it’s directed to, you or the bastard that intruded so tactlessly- so offensively. it’s probably both, you think- probably disgust at his learning of your supposed promiscuity, and at issei’s attempt to give him “pointers” about things you like in the bedroom. he gives you no chance to explain, muttering to himself that he should’ve known you were a slut and he’s rising from his chair despite your pleas, your denial of issei’s words. you sadly watch him walk out of the door, and that’s it. he’s gone.

you resign yourself to a literal facepalm, tossing your cloth napkin onto the table as you stare at issei in contempt. “you have some fucking nerve. are you happy now? that i’m alone? is that what you wanted?” you don’t even give him the time to formulate a response before you’re pulling money from your wallet and placing it on the table. you’re not even sure how much the bill is, but you leave more than enough in your haste to remove yourself from this situation. you sling your purse and jacket over your arm and stomp your way out of the restaurant, trying hard to avoid the gaze of nosy onlookers as a few salted streaks leave your eyes. you stand outside, plans gone horribly awry, and your despair grows as you can’t even remember where the hell you parked your car. you realize, when you hear the sound of footsteps approaching, that you’re not alone in the chilled evening air. there’s no second thought as you whip around, black of your eyeliner smudged and wrath in your wide eyes, to see your ex-husband.

“was divorcing me not enough? was leaving me, when i wanted nothing but to be with you, to-to make it work, not fucking enough? i mean, fuck, what is this really about? if you don’t want me then no one should? it feels like you’re punishing me when i did nothing to you- nothing to deserve this. all i ever did, issei, was love you, support you, show you my devotion- and this is the thanks that i get? a divorce i didn’t want and loneliness.” you laugh sardonically, and issei sighs with a shake of his head as he steps towards you. you don’t step away, don’t retract yourself from him, acceptance of what feels like defeat unmissable in your sagged shoulders.

“i didn’t know that i’d see you here tonight- didn’t know i’d see you out with somebody else. i..cant describe the feeling i’d gotten in my stomach when i saw you with him, laughing with him like you used to laugh with me, smiling at him like you used to smile at me. nausea, i guess. jealousy- no, envy, if you really want me to be honest. i envied that man in a way i’ve never felt before.” you look up at him with red-rimmed eyes, taciturn and short-tempered as you are, but you allow him to continue. out of curiosity or something else- something deeper, you don’t know.

“the divorce- the biggest mistake i’ve ever made, was never about me not wanting you. this, tonight? this was never about me not wanting you. did i go about it the wrong way? yeah, yeah i did and i’m not proud of it. that was cruel, and i’m sorry, but i’ve been trying. maybe not hard enough, maybe not in the right ways, but, shit, i’ve been trying, baby. i’ve tried with the phone calls, i’ve tried to get you to come over and stay- just for a minute, just so i can tell you how bad i know that i fucked up. you were-you are the greatest thing that ever happened to me and i was too selfish and immature- thought that if i let you go, i wouldn’t be holding you back. but i can’t pretend anymore, i can’t lie to myself and say that i don’t want you back every fucking day that i wake up. being married to you was the best time of my life by a long shot. seeing a face this beautiful everyday, getting to laugh with you, eating every meal with you, pulling you in close when you’d steal the blankets ‘cause you were cold- you were always so cold at night- i miss it all. i miss you whenever i do anything ‘cause you were always there. you’re always a part of me, even when you’re apart from me. and i don’t want you to be apart from me anymore.”

your eyes feel heavy, almost as heavy as your heart, and you swallow thickly. his own eyes look sincere- a plea in the darkness that crushes you under its weight. there’s two parts of you- one pushing, one pulling. one that wants to leave him standing here, leave him in the emptying street just like he left you. but the other part- the stronger part, the one that loves him so intensely, that made him hot tea and soup when he was sick, that ugly-cried at his vows on your wedding day, that part wants you to stay. you stare at him for a long moment, battle between love and loathing waging inside of you.

“you’re…an idiot. you know that, right?”

issei doesn’t know whether to frown or to jump for joy. you are insulting him, sure, but you’re also still actually speaking to him. he considers it a good thing. he scratches the back of his neck, nervous huffs of laughter escaping through his nose.

“yeah, i know, babe. i’m an idiot who needs you, though.” you roll your eyes, a fond smile on your face. issei’s stepping closer to you, his large hands gentle as they wrap around your waist. it’s a strange feeling, to be held by him like this. it’s one you’d felt so many times over the years and then very suddenly not at all, not until now. you miss it.

your eyes are wide, full of hope when issei leans down, lips so close to yours. “come home,” he says softly, “need you home, need you with me.” he doesn’t give you time to answer, though, because his lips are fully on yours. he kisses you so lovingly, so longingly that it steals your breath right from your lungs. one of his hands comes up to cup the side of your face and he tilts your head just how he wants you, tongue unfaltering as it prods its way between your lips. he soaks up the way you sigh into the kiss, the way your hands find shelter on his biceps, the way you’re still as teasing as you were before- teeth catching his lip as you giggle.

you pull away from the kiss first, cheek warm against issei’s palm and you blink up at him. “take me home, ‘sei.” he grins, something triumphant in his eyes as he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder, your laughter and shouts of protest being ignored by the tall man.

it’s only a short minute before you’re in issei’s car, on your way back to issei’s home. the ride isn’t long either, but it is full of tension. issei drives with one hand on your thigh the whole time, and when he has to stop, he’s leaning over to catch your lips again. you think this is what deja vu must feel like, because it just feels so familiar to be here- in issei’s car with his fingers splayed out on your thigh, in the driveway of a place you called home for so long. he smiles at you after he puts the car in park and takes the keys from the ignition, quickly exiting so he can open your door and usher you inside the house.

there’s a hand on your lower back as you enter the house, and the nostalgia of it all hits you harder. so many times had you come home like this after a night out, issei’s greedy hands touching you anywhere he felt like touching. those nights often ended with him between your thighs, or behind you, or- you have to blink the thought away as you feel your cheeks flushing, feel issei’s gaze on you. he sinks down to his knee, dark eyes still on yours and you gasp when he takes a hold of your calf. his fingers are reverential, worshipping as they glide across your skin to wrap around your ankle. he pulls your heel off, kisses your calf, and repeats the process on the other side. when he rises back to full height, he leaves a fleeting kiss on your lips and takes your hand, guiding you to the kitchen.

there you were, glass full of sake in hand as you sit on the counter. issei isn’t far, leaned back against the counter just to the left of you, smile on his face as he rambles tipsily. you have to admit, you’re only half paying attention, more stuck on the way that he licks his lips, the way that he cuts his eye to look over at you when he thinks you don’t notice. you sip your drink, mischievous glare behind the glass as your free hand creeps to meet his on the counter. he’s startled out of his rambling, looking down to see your hand on his, and when he looks back up at you, all he can do is grin. he sits his own glass down before stepping in front of you, hands caging you in on either side of your hips. he’s so obvious, so extraordinarily lacking in subtlety, with how his eyes linger on your plump pout, on the oh-so-perfect way your tits threaten to spill out of your dress. he ogles for a moment before he locks eyes with you again, and god, he can’t believe he let someone as beautiful as you go for even a second. the way you stare at him- so enamored and forgiving and lustful, he truly thinks it could drive a man crazy.

“‘m never lettin’ you go again, baby, never gonna fuck up that bad again,” he murmurs against your lips. your eyes slip shut and his nose nudges yours when he leans in all the way, lips gliding over each others in a kiss laden with desperation and yearning. his hands move to your hips and yours are on his shoulders, the two of you in something like a competition to see who can pull the other closer. your lips are so sweet to him, your tongue much like a lollipop that he wants to suck on all day. you’ve always tasted good, every little part of you, and issei’s been without his fill for too long now. the little sighs and soft whimpers that leave your lips are icing on the metaphorical cake that is kissing you.

“lemme make it up to you, baby,” he groans in between exchanges of saliva, “can i show you how sorry i am, hm? show you how much i missed you?”

you nod, unwilling to remove your lips from issei’s when he bites at your lip like that and it’s okay because he doesn’t need you to. his hands leave your hips in favor of sliding down your thighs, stopping when he reaches the hem of your dress. you’re a smart girl, don’t even need him to tell you to plant your hands on the counter and lift your ass and thighs up a bit so he can shove your dress up and your pretty little thong down.

the kitchen counter is cool against the skin of your thighs, a stark contrast to how warm issei’s palms are as they spread your legs apart. he separates from your mouth with a smack, gossamer strings of one another’s spit keeping you connected, and rests his forehead on yours. his fingers finally find treasure between your legs, fingertips already sticky as they sweep up and down your slit. you suck in a sharp breath, eyes not leaving his while he toys with your cunt.

“this pretty pussy still gets so wet for me. did you ever think about me? when you were with those other guys? did you get wet like this for them?” he gives you no warning as he plunges his middle and index fingers inside you, eyes squeezing closed in a long blink while your jaw falls open. he sets an unwavering pace, hand on your thigh coming up to cup your chin. his stare feels like an interrogation, so confident in his ability to pick you apart in every way possible. he’d know if you lied, could see it in your eyes and feel it with the pads of his fingers buried in your oozing cunt.

“i, f-fuck, i didn’t fuck a-anyone else, ‘sei,” you whimper, “only wanted you- only get this wet f-for you.” issei groans at your words, grip on your chin so tight as he forces you into another searing kiss. his fingers don’t slow their pace, thumb coming up to press down on your clit as his tongue rolls across yours- over your teeth and lips.

“that’s my girl. i didn’t either, baby, couldn’t even think about it. just kept fucking my fist to the thought of you, how pretty you look suckin’ me off or cummin’ on my cock.” the needy moan you let out has issei straining in his pants, and shit, is he wrecked for you already. he’s obsessed- with you and the pretty faces you make, with the way you whine his name, with how you clench and throb and gush around his fingers. he’s utterly intoxicated by every little thing that you have to offer, and he drinks it up greedily.

issei knows practically everything about you, so it’s no surprise that he remembers exactly how to find it- that cushiony little place inside you that makes you cry out when he presses against it. he’s so cruel, so abusive to your g-spot, pushing his fingers deep inside you to hit that button over and over again. he knows when you’re close, too, knows how you leak and flutter around whatever he’s got inside of you.

“‘sei, please,” you whine, voice hoarse and shaky with need. your fingernails are digging into his shoulders as he looks up from where his hand disappears inside of you to meet your eye. he steals another quick and sloppy kiss from you, hammering his fingers inside of you so hard that you can’t help your gasping moans.

“please what? you wanna cum, angel? do it then, cum all over my hand- cum for me.” he brings his free hand up to snake into your hair, gripping tight at the roots in an effort to keep your mouth from leaving his. it didn’t take long for you to fall apart, thighs spasming around his wrist and pussy spasming around his fingers as you brokenly sob his name against his lips. your chest heaves, cunt still squelching and squishing as issei slows his digits to a stop while you come down from your high.

it’s issei’s turn to moan contentedly as he slides his sticky fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking every last bit of you that coats the skin. he gives you a smile when he’s finished with his meal, and you taste yourself on his lips and tongue when he slots your mouths together again.

“gonna fuck you right here, baby, right in the kitchen like we used to,” he drawls, watching as your hands move to undo his belt and fly, “couldn’t eat in here while you were gone without thinking about how many times i’d stuffed you full right on the table.” you look up from your task to grin at him, shaking your head as you finally get the zip down.

“yeah, i couldn’t make breakfast without you waking up just to bend me over,” you snort, shoving his slacks and boxers down. his cock springs free and fuck, he’s so hard. he’s long, a little girthy with a curve to the left and the tip is blushing, leaking precum as it comes to slap against his stomach.

“shouldn’t’ve been lookin’ so goddamn good every time- bein’ a sweet little wife and cooking for me, how could i not just give you my cock?” his laughing tone is cut off with a hiss, eyes falling from yours to where your hand is wrapped around him between you. your grip is so warm on his already hot skin but he couldn’t care less, not when he’s been missing your hands on him for as long as he has. your free hand comes to mirror his earlier actions, fingers digging into his chin and jaw as you cup his face. he takes a breath before his eyes open back up and when he focuses, it’s you that’s staring up at him so amorously- so covetous in your gaze on him.

“fuck me, ‘sei. show me how much you missed me.” it’s like a switch flips in issei at your words, cravings for you back in full force as he takes your hands off of him with a strong grip on your wrists. he’s got his tongue back in your mouth in an instant, so bruising and eager as it takes in your flavors. he lifts your hands up to his shoulders in silent instruction, his own coming to grip the base of his cock in one and your hip in the other. the man is so teasing even when he’s just as insatiable as you, dragging his cock head between your folds, against your clit until you breathily plead for him. he could never deny you, not like this, so he obliges and starts the breach into your sopping pussy. he’s so slow, so careful in how he stretches you open around him that you don’t even care that your head hits the cabinet when it falls back.

“fuck, i missed you, baby. missed you and this pussy. suckin’ me in like you never want me to leave, shit,” he curses, hands tight on your hips as he begins to rock in and out of you. he loves the way you shudder and keen for him already when he’s barely given you anything yet, and if he were a better person, he’d warn you about what he’s going to give you. he isn’t, however, so he doesn’t.

issei drags his lip between his teeth as he pulls out of you, leaving only the very tip of his cock in your sweltering heat before he’s driving back into you, harder this time, faster. you wail at the abrupt change in his pace, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he sheathes himself into you on repeat. your legs are quivering around his lithe hips, panties dangling from your ankle as it bobs with the force of issei’s jackhammering thrusts into your sopping hole.

“you feel so good, baby, y’always have,” he rasps, drawing your attention back to him as you meet his gaze with lust-clouded eyes. “so stupid for me to think i could give you up, not when you’re so kind, so pretty, so fucking wet, so you.” it’s so hard to reply, so hard to do anything but moan his name as you clench your drooling cunt down on his length. he drags you to the very edge of the counter by the fat of your hips so you’re forced against his chest, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he pounds into you voraciously. his hands are rough as they slide up your thighs to grip you under the knee, keeping you spread so wide you know you’re going to feel it for at least a few days.

“couldn’t let that guy have you, baby- fuck-couldn’t let him have my wife,” his voice is husky, low in your ear when he speaks. “you belong here, at home, getting fucked dumb on my dick.” you’re trying to pay attention, really, you are; but it feels like a mission impossible to catch every word when his heavy cock lays assault on your g-spot.

“yeah, ‘m home, fuck me dumb,” you pant, nails leaving crescent shapes in the skin of issei’s neck and shoulders. it’s something you’d feel bad about if he cared- if he didn’t fuck you so full and deep and all-consuming.

the sound in the room is such a lewd combination- the slapping of skin on skin, your gasps and whines and little ‘unh unh unh’s, issei’s harsh breathing and grunts. he feels your cunt pulsing around him and he knocks into you even more crushingly than before, separating you only slightly so he can see your face.

“c’mon, baby, i can feel how close you are. lemme feel it, angel, cum on my cock,” he groans, one hand leaving its position on your leg to slip between you and rub quick, merciless circles onto your clit. you let out a long, unrestrained sob and let your head fall back again, unable to fight off the carnality of your pleasure.

“‘sei, ‘m cummingggg! fuck- i love you, love you s’ much.” your pussy is palpitating around his cock like a heart, which is entirely fitting when he’s so deep it feels like his cock is in your chest. you want to be embarrassed about how much your slick flows out of you, coating issei’s cock and the counter below you in a shiny essence, but you can’t think about it, can’t think about anything at all. your vision goes white for a moment and you’re sure that this here is what people mean when they say “rapturous.”

issei fucks you through it, keeps massaging your puffy clit with his long fingers and your hips are still jerking even after it’s over. he’s got his lips on your neck and you soon learn that he’s actually talking, when your hearing finally returns to you.

“nobody can make my wife cum like i do- know you inside and out, baby. ‘s why you belong with me, huh? belong with someone who fucks you like this,” he growls against your throat. he bites down on the sensitive flesh and you whimper, grip on him tightening as he picks you up from the back of your knees. he’s still heavy and hard inside you as he lays you onto the dining table. the way he stares down at you almost makes you want to shrink, his need to devour you and claim you so easy to spot in his features. the large hands that held you now make their way to the straps of your dress, pulling them off of your shoulders just enough that he can yank the front of your dress down. the first thing you can feel is the cold air hitting your pebbled nipples, and the second is the roughness of issei’s hands as he squeezes and tugs on the nubs, not satisfied until you pathetically whine his name.

there’s no preamble, no warning when he starts to roll his hips into yours again. he’s plowing into you so hard already that you can feel the table shaking beneath you, and you reach for him in instinct but he’s so mean, hands holding your wrists down against the table.

“want you to marry me again, baby. you gonna marry me again, right?” he questions you, eyes pinning you down with a gaze as heavy as iron. it’s a loaded question, really- you know that whether you say yes or no, he’s just going to fuck you harder. you bite your lip as his cock digs against your g-spot and decide to nod- lesser of two evils, and something you’ll think about when he isn’t kissing your womb with his fat tip.

“say it,” he groans, bending over you to nose along your throat. he maps his way up to your ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth before planting a kiss on the shell. “say it for me, baby.”

issei gives you a particularly harsh thrust- one that knocks the air out of your lungs and you sob, back arching off of the abused dining table. “‘m gonna- ah!- ‘m gonna marry you, ‘sei. wanna be your wife again,” you murmur, cock-drunk and being hurled over and over into orgasm too much for your brain to handle. issei is satisfied with it, though. he takes full height again as his heavy cock twitches inside of you and he uncurls one of his hands from yours, slipping it between you to thumb casually at your clit.

“mmh- fuck yeah, you are. yeah, you’re gonna be my wife and you’re gonna cum, right?” you hate so badly that you have to give him the satisfaction- but he’s right. you’re so close you can taste it, can feel it deep in the pit of your belly, and you need him. you nod, breathless and hazy, and he gives you a pleased little grin, circling of your clit more deliberate now. his free hand takes your leg and splays it against his chest, your ankle at his ear and he hisses as you take him so much deeper.

there’s no time to warn him before it happens, no time for words of caution because it even shocks you. the coil within you snaps, back arching as you cry so pretty for him. your hands search desperately for purchase and land on issei’s shirt, wrinkling the fabric in your fists while you sob and writhe. the flood that comes out of you is a welcome surprise to issei, who moans out an “oh, fuck” as he’s drenched in your spray of cum. everything’s so wet now, much wetter than before- so sticky when his pelvis meets your ass. he keeps driving his hips into you, keeps his rough thumb on your slippery clit and it’s all so fucking much to process.

“see, baby? nobody else can make you squirt on their fucking dick like that. you’re mine, y’were made for me. now, you’re gonna be a good girl and take my load, right?” he knows what he says might as well be rhetorical because you’re not gonna give him a true, proper answer. but he’s fine with it, as long as you keep making those pretty little noises and clenching his cock so tight like that.

issei’s close, nails digging into your thigh as he twitches inside you. his hair clings to his forehead with sweat, shirt half unbuttoned, half drenched in your juices, and he looks so debauched. and he is- has no choice but to be when it comes to you, when it comes to being inside your velvet heat that wants to wring the cum out of his cock. his breathing is picking up, little huffs of warm air hitting your leg as he ruts into you.

“f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum, baby. you still on the pill? hope not, maybe this one’ll take, huh? if not, that’s ok- i’ll just keep cumming and cumming in this tight little cunt until it does,” he grunts, head falling back and hips stuttering as he fills you with rope after rope of his hot seed. you moan with him, sensitive as you are, while he rides his orgasm out, chest heaving and thighs twitching. issei stares at you from above as he catches his breath, cock slowly softening inside of you but he doesn’t pull out yet, opting instead to drop your leg from his shoulder and back to his hip before he leans down to meld your lips with his in a tender kiss. he slips his arms underneath you, gathering you up into his hold and you gasp, startled as you’re lifted from the table.

“‘sei- what- put me down!” you whine, hissing in overstimulation at every step he takes with his semi-hard dick still inside of you. he ignores you in favor of taking you to the bedroom, dropping you on to the bed you’d once shared, except now the sheets smell only of him. you huff as you pout up at him but he just laughs, dragging his fingers up your sides.

“you didn’t think i was done with you, didya, baby? gotta show my wife just how much i missed her.” he begins to stir his hips again, somehow fully hard already, and somewhere in your mind you know that this is going to be a very, very long night.

it’s bright and warm the next day- a perfect day to move your stuff back home, issei says to you. you’re doing just that, starting simple with clearing out your closet while he does the drawers. there’s a dress in your arms that you’re about to lay out to fold when issei whistles, drawing your attention towards him. he turns to you, smirk on his face and goddamnit, you hadn’t even noticed that he went straight for your underwear drawer- but the skimpy, lavender colored g-string in his hands tells you that.

“give me those!” you scold, reaching to snatch them up but you curse him and his height as he holds them high up over your head.

“oh, absolutely not. these? these are going in my pocket so you can wear them for me tonight.” he snickers, shoving them in his pants pocket when you playfully roll your eyes and back off.

you can’t help but laugh with him, in too high of spirits to be truly annoyed with his antics, to be disgruntled with packing and moving. nothing could bother you, not now when you get to be with issei again, not when he woke you up this morning with languid kisses and whispers of how lucky he was that you wanted to be with him. starting over with him would take work, but it was work that you were both happy and willing to do for each other- for your second marriage.

>authors_note: if mattsun divorced me i would probably kms tbh 👨‍🦯 but anyways i hope u all enjoy!!

>p.s./announcement: i will be opening up for requests soon so have a look at my pinned post for more info!

>thank you for reading ♡

>masterlist.exe

© loko4koko 2023

[romanroycoo]

After The Fall - Vincent Renzi x Reader

Swann Arlaud in Anatomy of a Fall, similar plotline, son doesn't exist neither does Snoop (sadly).

Summary: After the trial of the death of your husband, you struggle to come to terms with this new life and the trauma of what has happened before. Vincent Renzi, however, becomes your comfort, staying beside you the whole time. A friends to lovers fanfiction

CW: Angst, fluff, obvious flirting, reader is depressed, grief, hurt and comfort, mentions of death, ex-husband was abusive - no mentions of it in this chapter.

Chapter one - Bathroom floor.

It had only been a few days since the trial had ended and you were freed from the question of murder. However, mentally, things had not seemed to get any brighter, your mind was in pieces, a sadness plagued your body day in and day out. And you had no one to call. 

Except Vincent.

You know you could depend on him for anything, hell, he saved your life technically. You needed him, not only as a lawyer, but as a friend. So when you were sitting on the floor of your bathroom, in this awfully empty house, crying desperately from the weight of the last few weeks of your life, you decided to call him.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” Curiosity was clear in his voice. You realise you missed this voice.

“Vincent..Hi, uhm i'm sorry to call you but uh..” Tears were still heavy on your cheeks and you struggled to get the words out. Asking for help wasn't your forte.

“No, no its fine dont worry. Is there something wrong? You sound-”

“Upset? Yeah. I can't seem to stop. I should be happy now the trial is over.” You laugh. “But, i just cant seem to be that.”

“You've been through so much, Y/n.” His voice is soft and warming.

There was a silence on the line through a few seconds, sad but not uncomfortable. You didnt know what to say, it was always like that around him. You were weirdly nervous, probably just the long time of not seeing each other, right?

“Could you co-”

“Yeah, i'll be there soon.” He says before you can even finish the question.

*****************************

It was late afternoon when he got there, letting himself in, it was a familiar arrangement by now.

You watched as the door glides open and he peers down at you, sat with your knees to your chest, leaning against the bath wall. 

“Hey.” You made a sad smile at him before he sat next to you automatically.

His head turned and his saddened gaze met yours. “Hey.”

Your eyes were already welling with tears again before you placed your head onto his shoulder, leaning into him. He shifted to make it more comfortable before wrapping his arm around you and placing his hand on your knee. You needed this hug so much, it had been so long since you felt the warmth of someone else near you like this. 

It felt like you could truly cry forever, and you hoped that he would stay, through it all, holding you like this and you didnt know why.

“Ive lost everything. Everyone. I dont know what to do or where to start again. Im such a mess.” You muffle into his side. “Ive never felt like this before.”

He stares for a while, understanding and listening to your pain. He hated seeing you like this and he wish he could take it away in an instant.

“You havent lost me, okay? And you just need some time. Ease back into things. Dont force yourself Y/n.”

You nod before sitting back up and looking at him, smiling assuringly and sorrowfully. Then as if nothing, you felt the pad of his thumb grace against your cheek, softly wiping away the tears staining your face. This house didn't feel so empty anymore.