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luvsupa · 5 hours

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YOURE IN LOVE WITH PRINCE GOJO?

tags: fem!reader x prince! gojo satoru, childhood enemies to lovers possiblly to forbidden love (☹️), slow burn, bully!gojo, love-hate relationship, gojos so confusing, ANGST, royalty, lots of tension, smut-ish (intense kissing), family dinner ruined, ayana is a bully, reader cries, soft gojo at the end. mdni.

w.c: 3.5k (woa)

a/n: thank you all so much for almost hitting 100 followers! tytyty for all the support too ! 🩵

read part 1 here! + likes and reblogs are very appreciative 🩵

for the rest of the night, gojo zoned out of every conversation as you occupied his mind. he couldn’t find the will to enjoy the event, your words haunting him relentlessly. i'll see you inside, prince gojo.

he had dreaded this feeling since childhood, after overhearing that fateful conversation between your families. gojo had always masked his emotions, distracting himself from the pain by giving you the cold shoulder. but in reality, he was desperate to be near you.

“ruru? are you unwell? you don’t look so good,” ayana asked, her voice tinged with concern, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“i am well, just nervous about the big crowd,” gojo lied, his voice strained as he fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve. “enough of worrying,” he added, scanning the room, only to find his mother and yours conspicuously absent. shit, he thought, his anxiety mounting.

“baby, i’ll be right back. i think i’m missing a family discussion,” gojo said, pecking her on the lips before rushing out of the ballroom, his heart pounding in his chest.

gojo's heavy footsteps echoed ominously down the long hallway, his urgency concerning, causing guards and servants to glance at him. he burst through the double doors of the drawing room, startling his and your mother, who were sitting opposite each other on blue velvet couches.

“'toru! you should be with the others,” his mother said, her eyes scanning him for any signs of distress.

“what were you just discussing?” he demanded, his voice barely controlled, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. the two women exchanged uneasy glances, sensing his agitation.

“dearest, this conversation is really between me and your mother,” your mother said, trying to calm gojo as his glare grew more intense, his jaw tightening.

“then include me,” he said, stepping closer, his presence menacing. “you are in my estate, a guest in my home. you will include me in this conversation, or you will leave immediately,” he commanded, his voice dripping with authority, as if speaking to a mere commoner.

“satoru!” the queen exclaimed, standing abruptly, shocked by his audacity.

“very well. we have found a nobleman worthy enough to marry my daughter. we were discussing when they should meet,” your mother revealed, her voice steady but cautious.

his heart sank at her words. “that's why you all came as a family? to marry her off? all the times you visited were simply to find her someone to wed?” his voice rose, trembling with barely suppressed rage as he pieced together the painful puzzle. his mother scolded him for his behavior, but he continued, “I do not approve.”

“satoru, no disrespect, but you have no say in this! she has already reached adulthood; being married is a priority!” your mother said calmly, her words striking him like a physical blow. gojo stormed out of the room, the same despair from his youth crashing over him. the memory of overhearing your parents arranging your marriage had tormented him for years, but now, knowing the deal was sealed, the helplessness was unbearable.

he stormed off in the opposite direction from the ballroom, his steps quickening as he ascended the stairs to where the bedrooms were located. breathless, he found himself standing at your door, hand mid-air about to knock. his heart ached, praying you would open the door and tell him you weren’t going through with the marriage.

gojo clenched his fist, lowering it to his side, his fingers twitching with frustration, a deep sense of powerlessness washing over him.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

“good morning, dear. did you sleep well?” gojo’s mother asked as he entered the breakfast room, ignoring her greeting. your mother and the queen were seated at the end of the table, with you sitting across from ayana. the empty chair beside her was likely where gojo would sit.

his breakfast was already plated, and he made his way to the chair beside ayana, who looked excited to see him. the room was filled with an almost unbearable silence, broken only by the scraping of forks and knives against plates.

“the ball was very beautiful, mrs. gojo,” you said, attempting to break the tension. “I had forgotten how much I enjoy attending your events.” you smiled warmly at the queen, feeling gojo’s eyes on you.

“ah, thank you, dear. It’s nice to know someone enjoyed it more than others,” she replied, her words carrying an edge you couldn’t quite grasp.

“I also enjoyed it, mrs. gojo!” ayana chimed in, trying to outdo you. “I especially loved the orchestra and ruru’s welcome speech,” she continued, wrapping her arm possessively around gojo’s. the queen thanked ayana for her kind words, but the tension in the room still remained.

“I have to ask, where have father and the king gone? I’ve barely seen them around the estate,” you said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. the queen immediately made eye contact with your mother, and gojo seemed to catch on.

“they are discussing an important upcoming event with other parties,” your mother said, her voice tight.

“what event?” gojo quickly intervened, his tone demanding, drawing all eyes to him.

“a royal event,” the queen said through gritted teeth, clearly trying to keep her composure.

“hmm, a royal event for whom? If her father is part of the discussion, she should also be aware, right, mother?” gojo challenged, taking a bite of his food. the room felt like it was shrinking, the awkwardness growing. You felt completely out of place. what is his problem?

“satoru, you are asking too many questions for your own good! It’s too early to be this curious,” the queen snapped, her voice unusually harsh. you were shocked; she hadn’t addressed gojo with the usual nickname ‘toru. had they gotten into an argument?

you glanced around the room, noticing ayana poking at her food, clearly uncomfortable. the silence that followed was excruciating, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

with that, gojo stood up abruptly and left the room, his shoes clacking loudly against the hardwood floor, leaving all the women in stunned silence to finish their breakfast.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

time has passed since the awkward breakfast you had in the morning, and you wish you hadn’t brought up your concerns about your father’s whereabouts. you had no intention of causing any arguments, and rethinking what had happened makes you cringe. sitting in the drawing room, writing in your journal is the only thing that gives you peace.

just as you start to enjoy your silence, you hear laughter and footsteps approaching the doors to your quiet space. damnit. the double doors open, revealing gojo and ayana giggling together, her arm wrapped around his.

“oh! we didn’t think anyone was in here..” ayana says in a fake tone. you stare at them in utter annoyance, feeling like you can’t find any time alone. “you wouldn’t mind if we joined you! you look pretty lonely here,” she says, walking closer to the royal blue couches. you close your journal as they make themselves comfortable.

“what are you writing in there? ways you can seduce me?” gojo says, walking closer to you. you stare at him in shock from the wild accusation, made worse by ayana’s obnoxious laugh as if it were the funniest joke. catching you off guard, ayana snatches your journal from your hand, your reflexes too late to stop her. she hands it to gojo for him to read.

“ruru, maybe you can find another confession of her undying love for you,” she says. you attempt to grab your journal back, but gojo holds it above your head. fuck!

you’re practically chasing the two of them around the room as he flips through pages, looking for something to embarrass you. you repeatedly ask for it back. “ooo, this is interesting, titled, ‘forbidden love,’” gojo says as they both burst out in laughter. he begins to read your personal words. you quickly reach up, grabbing one end of the book as he grips the other.

“let go, prince gojo,” you warn. he fake pouts, “we’re not on a first-name basis? alright, my lady,” he taunts, your blood boiling in anger.

without thinking, you raise your hand and slap him hard across the face. ouch!

the laughter comes to a complete stop as he stares at you in shock, releasing his grip on your book, causing you to grab it back- hold it tightly against your chest. “you bitch! how dare you slap the prince!” ayana exclaims, attempting to claw at you, but gojo holds her back, his cheek turning red from the slap.

“I don’t know what sick and evil games you like to play, but I will not be the one you two toy with,” you declare, your voice steady despite the anger coursing through you. with a firm grip on your belongings, you turn on your heel and stride towards the door, making your way to another quiet place.

—-

your entire stay at the gojo estate feels like a horror house. day by day, you are taunted by both gojo and ayana, their relentless torment threatening to break you.

just after your altercation in the drawing room, you receive a letter informing you there will be a family dinner, with the king and your father in attendance. as you prepare, making sure your gown is perfect in the mirror, you hear a quiet knock at your door. expecting your mother, you open it to find gojo standing there.

“look who decided to finally show some effort,” he drawls, eyes scanning your attire. “trying to impress someone?”

your irritation flares, cheeks flushing with annoyance. “what do you want, gojo? here to read more of my journal?” he straightens up, entering your room without invitation.

“mmh, as much as i would love to, your mother sent me. apparently, you need some jewelry your father gave you,” he remarks, amusement dancing in his eyes. “or maybe she thought you’d need help with getting dressed.”

you cross your arms, defiant. “i don’t need your help with anything.” he smirks, stepping closer. “such a shame, but i’m here. why not make use of me?” your heart races as you snatch the jewelry box from his hands. before you can open it, his grip tightens on your wrist, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “now, now,” he murmurs, “let me.”

you attempt to pull away, but he holds firm. “i can manage on my own,” you grit out. ignoring your protest, he takes the box from you entirely.

“turn around,” he commands softly. you comply, facing the mirror. he steps closer, his breath ghosting over your neck, sending shivers down your spine. you’re watching his every move as he delicately removes the necklace from its case, the glint of jewels catching the light.

“hold still,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. you obey, your breath catching in your throat as his presence is overwhelming. he drapes the necklace around your neck, his touch gentle yet electrifying.

as he fastens the clasp, his fingers linger on your skin, sending a rush of heat through your veins. you feel him staring at you through the mirror, intense and probing, as if daring you to resist him. through the reflection in the mirror, you meet his eyes, a silent battle of wills passing between you.

“there,” he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “perfect.”

the air crackles with tension as neither of you moves, locked in a silent dance of desire and defiance. you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, his presence engulfing you entirely. every nerve in your body is on edge, anticipation coursing through your veins as you struggle to maintain your composure.

“you know,” he whispers, his voice a seductive murmur in your ear, “seeing you like this… so obedient for once. I wonder what else I can make you do.” his words send a jolt of heat straight to your core, igniting a fire within you that you struggle to contain.

before you can respond, you feel his lips press softly on the sensitive base of your neck, a soft caress that sends a wave of desire crashing over you. a gasp escapes your lips as you crave his touch.

you tilted your neck instinctively, inviting more of his attention, despite your attempts to maintain composure. a soft whimper escaped you, as he smirked against your skin. the room seemed to shrink around you, the tension between you and gojo intensified. every nerve of your body was on edge as you struggled to control your emotions.

in a bold move, your hand reaches back, fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. and at that, he whines at the grip you had on his hair. as your intense gaze continues through the mirror and him kissing you, everything hits you. what are you doing? this is gojo- the man you hate, the one who invaded your privacy, the one who made your life miserable. with a sudden clarity, you pulled away, turning around and moving back to create a distance between you two as you look at his flushed cheeks.

“mm- you looked like you enjoyed yourself sweetheart, especially for someone who claims they hate me,” he teased. you scoff, trying to regain your composure. “this can never happen again.” you sternly say. he chuckled softly as he looks down at you, “you don’t seem too sure,” he taunts.

“you’re unbelievable,” you confront, making his brows rise in curiosity. “one day you torment me and make me feel like shit, and the next you want to kiss me!” you nearly shout. he stares into your eyes as you’re so desperately trying to find some answers for the way he acts.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” he says, ignoring your distress as he walks out of your room, making you even more mad and confused. what the hell is wrong with him today?

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as you make your way towards the dining room, your eyes catch sight of your father in the hallway, and quickly to catch up with him, giving him in a warm hug. “I've missed you, father! thank you for this beautiful necklace,” you express, gesturing towards the shimmering diamond pendant.

"dearest, while the necklace looks stunning on you, I'm afraid I did not gift it to you," your father gently remarks, his words sending a pang of confusion through you. If my father didn’t gift me the necklace, then does that mean—

“the food is being served,” gojo's interruption jolts you out of your thoughts as you slowly turn towards him. your father strides towards the doors leading into the dining room, leaving you standing there, trying to piece together the puzzle before you.

did gojo gift me the necklace and then falsely claim my father gave it to me? Is this part of some twisted game to kiss me? suddenly, a hand on your back startles you, and you jump, your mind racing with unanswered questions.

"apologies, honey, I didn’t mean to startle you. are you not joining us inside?" your mother's voice soothes your confusion.

"mother... did you send gojo to my room earlier with this necklace?" you slowly question, fingers grazing the shimmering diamond adorning your neck.

"no, dear. I was busy with my own preparations. but let's not keep everyone waiting. we should head inside; we might be running late," she responds, gently guiding you into the grand dining room. he gifted me the necklace.

you and your mother both enter the shiny dining hall, the sparkling ambiance surrounding everyone. your father and the king occupy seats at opposite ends, with their wives seated adjacent to them. you find yourself directly in front of the queen, with gojo and ayana beside, as always.

as the food is served to each of us individually, the room fills with the lively chatter of the adults. amidst the chatter, the queen’s voice breaks through as she calls your name, capturing the attention of everyone present.

“have you considered marriage now that you've reached adulthood?” she inquires, putting you in a delicate position as all eyes turn to you, much like last time.

“not recently. I find comfort in the fact that my friends aren't married either, so I see no rush,” you respond, hearing an awkward chuckle from your mother and seeing concerned glances from the king and queen. It's another awkward moment, just great.

“are you lonely because your fantasies with satoru were crushed when you were rejected?” ayana’s words slice through the air like a knife, her smirk dripping with venom. you choke on your food, the room falling into a stunned silence as all eyes fixate on you, hungry for answers.

“Is this true?” your mother’s voice cuts through the tension, her tone heavy with disappointment. mentally cursing ayana for thrusting you into this predicament over a mere childhood crush, you struggle to find your voice amidst the mounting pressure.

“mother, I-it was simply a childhood crush-“

“then what are these sinful fantasies you’ve written in your journal?” she interjects, her words igniting the already heated atmosphere. your throat tightens as you meet the shocked gazes of those around you, a lump forming as you grapple for an explanation.

“that’s— that’s not true, ayana,” you manage to utter. but just as the situation couldn’t worsen, Ayana brings up a fake torn page. from my journal? no. my pages do not look worn out.

In the midst of the chaos, gojo’s expression mirrors your shock, his eyes widening in concern as he looks at you, his usual confidence momentarily faltering.

"just look at the disgusting things she wrote about satoru, my partner... shame on her," ayana spits out with a mock pout, giving the forged paper into your mother's hands. why is she setting me up?

tears run down your cheeks, your heart pounding in your chest as your mother's eyes bore into you with utter disgust and disappointment.

"enough, ayana," gojo's deep voice says, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and concern as he watches the scene unravel. but ayana ignores his warning.

you're paralyzed by a whirlwind of emotions, fear and frustration gripping you as you struggle to defend yourself against the false accusations.

"honestly, it's disgraceful. a whore, if you ask me, but who am I to—"

"I said enough, ayana!" gojo's voice booms through the room, the force of his words sending shockwaves through your family dinner. with a clenched jaw, he slams his fist down on the table, the sound echoing in the silence as he rises abruptly, his chair crashing to the ground behind him.

"r-ruru? I was just—" ayana's voice trembles, but gojo's fury cuts through her excuse.

"get the fuck out!" He angrily yells, as tears are forming in her eyes as she ignores him, remaining seated.

with a frustrated tsk, gojo strides across the room, his steps purposeful as he harshly grabs your arm, pulling you away from the torment. shock courses through you, your humiliation fresh and raw in front of your family.

gojo's grip on your hand is tight as you numbly follow him, your mind clouded with pain and disbelief. silent sobs leave your body as he leads you away, his own heart heavy with guilt at seeing you broken, especially because of him.

eventually, you arrive at a grand double doors with gold initials, “G.S,” engraved into the white-painted wood. as the doors swing open, you step into his ginormous chamber.

he strides across the room, his steps echoing against the polished marble floors, before crouching down to scoop you up in his arms. with effortless strength, he carries you in a bridal embrace, placing you gently onto the comfort of his king-sized bed.

as you sink into the softness, drained and defeated, he lowers himself to meet your gaze, his hand tenderly caressing your tear-stained face.

“my baby,” he softly coos, his voice laced with concern as he gazes upon you in your current state, hating to see you so broken.

“‘toru,” you whisper the nickname he despises, not to make him upset, but he just smiles.

“I hate you,” you choke out between sobs, tears streaming down your face. yet, he wipes them away gently, nodding in silent understanding.

“why do you do this to me? why do you despise me so much?” your words are muffled as you struggle to formulate words.

he takes a deep breath, wanting to tell you everything, how he’s feeling- how The very idea of you being with another man feels like a dagger piercing his heart.

“I cannot tell you yet. but one day, I promise,” he whispers, cradling your face tenderly in his hands before pressing a gentle kiss to your trembling pout.

“sleep here tonight. I’ll resolve everything,” he reassures you, his voice filled with determination and love.

you nod in understanding as he leaves you alone in his dimly lit room as your slowly doze off into slumber, hearing the choas erupting downstairs.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo angst #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

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absurdthirst · 11 hours

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Right Hand Man {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.8k

Warnings: 1920s AU, mentions of arranged marriage, domestic abuse, masturbation, voyeurism, infidelity, cuckolding, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (male receiving), pregnancy, childbirth, fighting, death

Comments: Positioned as your husband's right hand man, Dave watches. Knowing you are unhappy and you want him. Waiting until the time is right for him to make his move.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You sigh as you look across the dining room to your husband. The man you’ve been married to for three years. It feels like an eternity. The table is almost as long, positioning you on the opposite side so you have to practically shout to speak to him. He prefers that, you suppose, so he can have his peace and quiet. He’s a rich man, focused on business and not silly little things like books and art and poetry. None of your interests are his interests yet you married him because you were forced. Your parents arranged the marriage to him and you had to go along with it. In this day and age, a girl can’t afford to go it alone. You sip on your wine, expensive, of course. So expensive the dust needed to be wiped off of the bottle. Yet you barely notice the heady taste of it as your eyes flick over to the man sitting next to your husband at the other end of the dining table. David York. Dave, to your husband and those close to him. Your husband’s right hand man in business and the man you think about when your husband is inside of you.

Talking about business over dinner is never Dave’s favorite thing, but it keeps him occupied. Keeping him from glancing down to the end of the table to where you sit. He shouldn’t want you, shouldn’t know every time you lift the wine glass to your lips. Too many times, in his opinion. He shouldn’t hear the soft sigh that seems to reach only his own ears. You are a wife, the wife to, technically, his boss. He shouldn’t want you, but he does and he ignores it just like he has from the moment your husband brought you home to this elaborately overdone mansion to be a virtual prisoner.

You sigh again as Dave completely avoids looking at you. You know he’s loyal to your husband, Edward, but you can’t help imagining him losing control and taking you as his own. It’s what fuels you on lonely nights when dear Eddie is out fucking every whore within a ten mile radius. Any floozy who likes sparkly things. Like damn magpies. You were hurt when you were first married, now you’re just glad they do the job that is supposed to be yours. Outsourcing is what you affectionately call it when trying to preserve your dignity around the other wives when Edward takes you to the country club. Edward has fucked you, of course he has, in his desperate bid for an heir but you’ve been successful to avoid getting pregnant. Using every old wives tale to avoid it, you’ve been successful thus far. Although it’s a special occasion if Eddie does try to fuck you. Usually he’s too occupied with his work or his whores. You down the rest of your wine and stand up, bringing the eyes of the men at the other end of the table to you. “I’m going to bed.” You announce and Eddie doesn’t say anything as his eyes turn back to his papers.

Dark eyes fixed on you, noticing the pretty shade of lipstick you are wearing is wine smudged. Making it look like you’ve been thoroughly kissed. He clenches his jaw at how dismissively your husband treats you, but it’s not for nothing when Eddie murmurs his name. “Escort my wife to her room.” He suggests dismissively, even though it’s not a suggestion. For some strange reason, Eddie wanted you escorted through a home that was also supposed to be yours, but Dave doesn’t ignore the opportunity to spend a few moments with you. “Of course.” He nods and stands, buttoning his suit jacket before walking down to your end of the table.

Your heart pounds as Dave walks past you to open the house and you stumble slightly as you make your way past him and down the hall. Dave walks silently beside you, walking in front of you as you head upstairs to your quarters, and you admire his broad shoulders in his well tailored suit. Opening the door to your bedroom - Eddie has his own suite on the other side of the house - you walk in and turn to look at Dave, "thank you for escorting me back to my room." You say, biting your wine stained lips as the man stands there quietly. You wonder what's going through his mind and you desperately want to break him. To see if he feels the same way you do. The fact that you want to rip that suit off and make him moan your name. He's dangerous and that makes you want him even more, the capability he exudes. You decide to play with fire, reaching for the zipper of your dress as you pull it down, letting your dress slip from your body to pool at your feet, displaying the stockings, garter belt, and bra that are keeping you together beneath the expensive flapper dress that is all the style nowadays.

Every muscle in Dave’s body tightens and he wants nothing more than to jump on you. To devour you whole and make you scream his name while he pounds into you. Still, he shows no outward emotion. He can’t right now. He would lose his advantage and there were still pieces he was moving around the board. “Goodnight, Mrs. Holt.” He inclines his head respectfully and turns around to exit the room, thankful that his suit is cut in a way to hide the semi he’s sporting.

You stare at the door he closes behind him and you inhale sharply. You feel embarrassed and then the anger hits you. You offered yourself on a plate and he won’t touch you. You’ve only ever been with Edward, a deal made by your parents and his when you were a teenager. A deal you never had a say in. You were married off to Eddie as soon as you completed finishing school. Huffing, you decide to get ready for bed and form a plan to seduce David York.

Dave strides back into the dining room to find your husband moving towards his office. “I’m going to go to the club.” He tells Dave and he knows that your husband is actually going to his mistress’s townhouse. He doesn’t know if you are aware of it, but Eddie has taken to an actress and bought her a townhouse to keep her in town. It’s nothing that would probably surprise you, but it’s not Dave’s place to talk to him about his deplorable behavior. If Dave had a wife like you, he would never leave your bed. You would be in his room, it would be shared. Instead of telling him that he needs to stay home and pay you some attention, he nods. “Very well, I will forego my own plans this evening to keep an eye on things here.” He tells Eddie.

You slide into your bed, the silk sheets are luxurious but what good is luxury when you are in a gilded prison? Many would ask why you wouldn't try to leave. You have. You have told Eddie many times that you want to divorce him, to let him be the playboy he is without you waiting on him, but all that got you was a slap around the face. He told you that the only way you'd be leaving him would be in a casket. You nursed your bruised skin and carried on, trying to conceal the pain both inside and outside. Dave has been your only solace, granting you a glimpse into what could be. What you'd want if you weren't trapped in this marriage. You sigh, tossing in your bed, until you decide to get a drink to calm yourself down. Sliding into your robe and slippers, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen. The staff have all retired for the night so you appreciate the quiet as you enter the ornate kitchen to get a glass of water.

Sitting at the kitchen table, used by the staff. Dave sits with a bottle of scotch and a crystal glass. Even though his boss is a piece of shit, his wealth afforded a lot of luxuries that Dave had never known existed. He didn’t have the luxury of being born into the class that you and Eddie lived in. Dave had been born in the slums, scrapping and fighting from a small age for survival. It has served him, while he still was on the darker side of morality, he has risen from his humble roots. Sitting in a wealthy man’s kitchen, drinking his expensive liquor before sleeping in silk sheets. He stares at the amber liquid in the glass, wondering when he had stopped enjoying these things.

Your eyes widen as you see Dave sitting there sipping on what looks like scotch. “I didn’t expect you to still be here. I’m guessing Eddie has gone to see one of his whores?” You ask as you grab a glass and pour yourself some water. Dave’s dark eyes meet yours and you see the answer there. “Well, at least I have some peace and quiet.” You sigh and lean against the kitchen counter as you take a gulp of the water. “You’re still here? To babysit me?” You snort, “or you don’t have a home to go to?”

Dave’s stare at you is narrow, his eyes dark before he looks away. Down at his drink again. “Why drink at home when I can drink this for free?” He asks sarcastically, draining the rest of the scotch and pouring another two fingers. “I’ve got a room here.” He reminds you.

You nod, “yes. You’re the one who can come and go. Me? I’m trapped here.” You down the rest of your water and set the glass on the counter. “I was thinking about throwing a party. We haven’t had one for a while. Get the champagne flowing and Eddie can invite his girls right under my nose.” You chuckle humorlessly, “and I can get drunk and wallow in my self pity.” You sigh dramatically, “unless someone decides to distract me from my turmoil.” You say, undoing your robe and you stare at Dave for a moment, wanting to offer him another chance now that Eddie is gone.

It’s tempting. Fuck, he just knows you would melt under his touch. You’re innocent and it’s very telling that Eddie doesn’t talk about you like he does his other women. He likes that you’re nearly pure. Dave can tell you want to explore and do filthy things. “Choose someone I don’t like.” Dave grunts, making you frown. “Why is that?” You huff. Dave holds his glass up to the light and examines the liquor inside. “Because I’ll have to break the fingers of whoever touches you.”

Your eyes widen and your stomach clenches with arousal at the dark look in his eyes. You know he’s saying it because Eddie would kill anyone that touched you and he discovered it. Especially since he’s growing desperate for an heir to his estate. “Eddie’s right hand man protecting what belongs to his boss.” You snort, “of course.” You scoff and shake your head, “goodnight, David.” You make your way out of the kitchen, tying your robe as you slink back to your bedroom, embarrassment swirling in your gut as you put yourself on a platter for the man again and he refused to touch you. You’ll plan a party. That will distract you from wanting a man that doesn’t want you back.

Dave hisses after you leave the kitchen. Reaching down and adjusting the way his now hard cock is pressing against his trousers. Your nightgown was silky and thin, giving him no illusions and paired with the image of you in your undergarments has him throbbing. “Damnit.” He murmurs, wishing that he was in a position to do what he wants, but he’s not there yet.

****

The party you planned is in full swing. Eddie greets the guests with a champagne toast before the band begins to play and the swinging jazz is loud enough to echo through the estate. You sip your champagne, the tassels of your dress swinging as you sway to the music. You feel happy for the first time in weeks since Dave’s rejection and you’ve kept to yourself since that night, avoiding the man and your husband with experienced precision. Eddie is already off with Jasmine Parker, a socialite who you know is already vying for your position as Mrs. Holt and you are tempted to make it easy for her to take your place but Eddie would never allow it. Your parents are one of the founding families and he wants your status as his crowning glory on his empire. You glance at the couples dancing and kissing or more and sigh, feeling immensely alone. Deciding to take a break, you make your way to your quarters and set your champagne glass down. Stripping out of your dress, you take off your bra and panties and remain in your garter and stockings. It’s chilly tonight so you grab your furs, leaving on your pearls as you lay down and grab your glass of champagne, taking a sip before resting your head on your pillow. The jazz music has faded as you slide your hand along your body, imagining someone that adores you is touching you. Imagining that Dave is the one touching you with those strong capable hands. You whimper as you squeeze your breast, pinching your nipple and sliding your hand lower until you spread your thighs, pressing a delicate finger against your clit.

He’s not working tonight, so where you’ve disappeared to is none of his concern, but Dave looks at his watch when you don’t return to the party quickly. Frowning, he sets his champagne glass down, aware that your husband has no idea that you’ve disappeared from your own party. He checks the power rooms and then quickly makes his way over to your wing of the house, determined to find where you’ve gone.

You whimper, spreading your legs a little wider and moaning as you rub your clit. This is the only kind of pleasure you’ve ever known. Eddie has never made you feel desired or made you see stars…unless it’s his hand hitting your head. You sigh, a soft whisper of Dave’s name leaving your lips as you imagine him touching you. You imagine he’d be rough but giving, wanting to control your pleasure for his own satisfactions.

Your words in his mind, Dave moves silently down the hall to your rooms. He never agreed with having you on the opposite side of the house, but now he understands it. The sounds from the party are non-existent. He hears a moan and clenches his teeth in fury. He had turned down your obvious overtures and now you’ve found some other poor sap to risk getting his spine snapped. Even if Eddie wouldn’t order it, Dave will beat the life out of whoever had touched you. Fist tight to his side, the other hand turns the handle to your room and he barges in, eager to interrupt your little tête à tête.

You gasp, spilling some champagne as Dave barges in the room, fists clenched, and the shock dissipates almost immediately when you see he’s alone. You smirk and tilt your head back against your pillow, continuing to rub your clit as you work yourself up to an orgasm in front of your husband’s right hand man.

He can’t even speak. Nude except for a fur stole and pearls, your hand is between your thigh and the other clutching a flute of champagne makes you look like the classiest of whores. But a whore, you are not. You’re a woman who has been denied pleasure and Dave feels his restraint snap. Flipping the latch to your door so no one else can enter, he strides over to your bed and grabs your hand that’s between your thighs and pulls it away.

Your eyes narrow and you practically growl at him as he stops you from pleasuring yourself. "Are you going to control the way I touch myself too?" You hiss at him but he silences you by sliding your fingers into his mouth. Those dark eyes on yours as he tastes your arousal from your digits and you heave a breath at the lust that slams into you. "I just wanted a taste." He explains after he releases your fingers and you nod, dumbstruck. "Continue touching yourself." He demands, stepping back and you whine, "David." He shakes his head, "I want to watch you make yourself cum." His voice is full of command that makes you gush again and how can you deny him? Your hand shakes slightly as you press your damp fingers to your folds, rubbing your clit as your eyes meet his and your mouth falls open while you work yourself towards your climax.

Your nipples are hard, making his palms itch to fill his hands with your skin. To squeeze them and pinch the sensitive buds. But between your thighs, that is where the real show is. His dark eyes fix on your hand, occasionally flicking to watch your expression again. “Fuck.” He hisses.

You feel powerful, having him watch you as you take your own pleasure. His hissed curse pushes you closer and you keep your eyes on him as you whimper, getting closer and closer until finally, you fall over the edge. His name is not unexpected to fall from your lips but you know you’ll fluster later thinking about this moment. The way he unraveled you without a touch. “Dave.” You gasp as your fingers furiously rub your clit to work yourself through your orgasm.

Dave’s entire body hurts with the desire to claim you. To make you cry out his name because of him. Because of what he does to you. He can’t. You aren’t his. You are Eddie’s, even if the bastard doesn’t appreciate you. Your eyes are closed and there’s a softness to you as you catch your breath. “Beautiful, princess.” He grunts. “Now go to sleep.” He orders, turning around and walking away before he fucks up and crosses a line he can’t go back from.

You stare at him as he opens the door and exits your bedroom. "You bastard!" You scream at him, throwing the champagne glass at the door as you choke on a sob. You feel used now. He watched you in a vulnerable moment and didn't make a move. He's messing with you. Maybe he's testing you on Edward's behalf. You sob as you stumble into your en-suite, feeling so alone despite the hundreds of people partying below. You hate David York.

When he closes the door, Dave sighs. It had been so tempting but he just can’t touch you.

****

“I will be gone for a week.” Eddie adjusts his collar and straightens his tie. “Business.” The smirk on his face tells Dave the business is that budding little socialite actress that he had been fucking. He nods. “What do you want me to do?”

Edward grabs his briefcase, “you stay here. Make sure my darling wife doesn’t escape. I don’t want her leaving the estate. You understand?” He asks Dave, “she hasn’t given me an heir yet. It’s…getting tedious.” Edward huffs and shakes his head, “I will have to have a doctor see to her soon if she does not conceive when I decide to fuck her next.”

He wants to tell Eddie that it’s hard to impregnant someone if they never fuck them, but he just nods silently. “Knew I could count on you.” He smirks and then chuckles. “Drink the scotch, it will help you get through the week with my boring wife.”

You know that Eddie is going into the city to see the latest woman that has caught his fancy. You don’t care. It’s saving you a week of hoping he doesn’t come to your room to ask for sex. You expect to have the estate to yourself when you see Eddie’s car disappear down the driveway and you make your way downstairs. You’re surprised when you find Dave sitting in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee that the housekeeper prepared for him. “What are you doing here, David?” You ask petulantly. Annoyed that Eddie let Dave here to babysit you and make sure you won’t escape.

“Keeping an eye on things.” He knows you are annoyed with him, you’ve made that quite clear by giving him the cold shoulder since the party. As long as you or Eddie don’t know how often he jerks off thinking about you spread out and playing with your cunt. “Here for the week, so deal with it.”

You huff, grabbing a glass to pour yourself a glass of orange juice that the housekeeper squeezed fresh this morning. “Well, it’s going to be a boring week for you.” You hum and lick your lips.

“Don’t mind boring.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Better than a busy week.” He admits, happy for the downtime, especially since he’s almost got everything prepared to walk away.”

You cross your arms, "well, it's going to be boring for me. Hanging around this house. Nothing to do except drink and read." You sigh, picking up your glass and taking a sip. "Not like anyone here will entertain me."

Dave snorts, enjoying the obvious attempt you are making to goad him. “Poor little rich girl.” He sympathizes mockingly. “Maybe I should send the housekeeper, maids and cook away to give you something to do?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “I did not - you misunderstood me. You always seem to do that.” You huff and shake your head, “you’re infuriating. Following Edward around like his lost puppy. What are you waiting for? Him to throw you a bone? Money? He’s just using you like he uses all of us.” You spit at him, “we are all pawns in his game and you’re doing his dirty work.”

Dave narrows his eyes at you for a moment, not liking your view of him, but then he chuckles. “You think he’s using me, Princess?” He snorts. “That’s rich. Very rich. Considering.”

“Considering what?” You narrow your eyes at him again and slam your glass down, walking over to the kitchen table to press your palms to the tabletop. Your eyes burn into his as you lean over him. “What do you mean?” You demand to know.

Even if you said something to Edward, he wouldn’t believe you but Dave doesn’t think that you would willingly tell your husband this. “Considering…..” Dave smirks at you. “I’m using him. Have been since I saved him from getting beat to death.” He chuckles. “I drink his booze, sleep under his roof….” His eyes drop down to your cleavage. “Watch his wife make herself cum.”

You inhale sharply, shifting to stand up straight. You remember the first time Edward brought Dave home. He said he’d met him at a work function and clicked with the younger man. “You- he said you met at a work function. Wow…he’s even lied to me about that. I don’t think the man is capable of telling his wife the truth. Maybe that’s why she lets other men watch her cum.” You snort and turn away from Dave to grab your drink. It’s refreshing to hear someone say they are using Edward when your husband thinks he has everyone figured out and under his control.

Dave chuckles, watching you pour your drink and take a sip. “I was entertained.” He hums, drinking the rest of his coffee and standing after he folds the newspaper. “But soon, I’ll be leaving your husband’s employment.”

You turn to look at him, trying to hide your disappointment. As much as you and Dave have this - this unspoken thing - between you, you know you’ll die of boredom without him bothering you. You will be left in your quarters without anyone to talk to or spar with. You’ll be utterly heartbroken without him. You hate the idea of him going but you hate the idea of telling him that more. “Where are you going?” You inquire, trying to act like you don’t really care.

“Work for myself.” What you aren’t aware of, is that Edward isn’t very well liked amongst his business partners. Too brash and easy to dismiss. Dave has been watching and acquiring contacts. Networking under his nose. Almost ready to pull the rug out from under him.

“You can’t leave.” You tell him and he snorts, “and why not, Princess?” He asks and you blurt out, “you can’t leave me here alone. I don’t want you to go.” The words are out before you can stop them and you immediately regret them, knowing he’s got the upper hand once again.

“I’m not leaving yet.” He promises, even though he doesn’t know why he is assuring you of that. “Soon you’ll be busy having Edward’s children and raising them.”

You scoff, “he’d actually have to fuck me to get that to happen and even if he did I would try everything to prevent it.” You say without thinking and your eyes widen. “I didn’t - oh God. Don’t tell him that I- Dave.” You plead and he shakes his head, “your secret is safe with me, Princess. Just be a good girl.” He urges and you frown as he leaves the kitchen. Every interaction with the man confuses you even more until you don’t know where you stand with him.

Dave spends the afternoon in Eddie’s office. Using the telephone in there to make several calls and once he sets the phone down in the cradle once last time, he smirks to himself. Tapping his hand on the desk that exudes the image of power and considers buying one for himself once he has his own mansion. Tilting his head when he hears a noise, he pushes back from the desk and stands. Wanting to make sure that you’ve not decided to throw another party last minute.

You sway to the music coming out of the radio and smile at the familiar song. Swaying your hips, you lift your hands over your head as you start to dance, letting your mind go blank as you enjoy the freedom without Eddie in the house. Even if it can get lonely with only the staff to keep you company.

You had made comments about being lonely, but Eddie had always waved it away as you being spoilt because you weren’t being doted on. Watching you dance to the music, no one else on the floor, Dave is struck by just how alone you are. Isolated and confined by the man you had been married off to. His heart pounds and before he can talk himself out of it, he’s quickly moving quietly across the floor to sweep you up into his arms. The staff has gone home, so it’s just you and him in the house.

You gasp as you feel someone grab you and your first instinct is to fight until you see it’s Dave. “Goodness, you scared me.” You confess and he chuckles as he starts to lead you, swaying you to the music. Your fingers flex against his bicep, his jacket discarded somewhere and you feel secure in his arms, you feel safe. This is what you have yearned for during your nights alone. “I didn’t know you could dance.” You murmur, looking into those beautiful dark brown eyes that hold secrets you’ll never be privy to.

“Never done it.” Dave admits with a small smirk. “Watched it plenty, practiced by myself.” He knows you won’t judge him for that, now when you have just been dancing by yourself as well. “If I’m going to be a wealthy man one day, I should be able to dance.”

You like his ambition, the sparkle in his eyes. “Just promise me one thing.” You request as his hand rests on the small of your back. “Tell me, Princess.” He orders and you look into his eyes for a second. “Don’t forget who you are. Be true to yourself.” You urge, knowing what money can do to men. It can corrupt, it destroys. You don’t want to see him change when he’s strong and charismatic and…and sexy.

Dave lifts a brow, surprised by your request and he nods. “Grew up dirt poor and fighting to survive.” He reveals quietly. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget that but when I finally have a wife, kids of my own, I want to give them the world.”

You hate the thought of him married to another woman, giving her the life she deserves and all of him. Having his children. Dave is a rare gem in your otherwise lackluster jewelry box of family, friends, and acquaintances. He’s authentic and you love that.

Your expression falls and Dave frowns, letting go of your waist when you look away and grabbing your chin gently to turn it back towards him. You flinch and that pisses him off, knowing that Eddie had slapped you around too often for Dave’s liking. He could beat on a woman, but too much of a coward to take on a man his own size. “What?”

You push his hand away from your chin. “You don’t care. You’re here to babysit me for Eddie. Even throwing myself at you…you reject me. Lord above, you’ve seen me - well, you’ve seen all of me and yet I’ve seen none of you. Not even your true thoughts and feelings. I feel exposed when you just look at me. It unnerves me and yet it makes me want to beg you to fuck me but God forbid I stoop so low to beg. You’d surely laugh at me and I couldn’t - that would be too much to bear for a woman who constantly lives as an ornament in her own home.” You choke and turn away from him, not wanting to stay and hear him reject you again.

Dave grabs your arm harshly and spins you around to face him again. Making you gasp out in surprise and the retort that he had died on his lips. Surging forward as he crushes you to him, Dave’s mouth falls over yours in a completely devouring kiss. Giving into the emotions and wants that he has been so careful to keep secret until now.

You gasp into his mouth, shocked for several seconds until you melt against him. He kisses you like a man starved of affection. You’ve never been kissed like this. Edward only kisses you in public to keep up pretenses. Your fingers find purchase in his slicked back hair and you press yourself against him as you let him devour you.

Dave licks into your mouth like you are the sweetest treat. Sampling you and groaning at the flavors that make you up. His hands tighten on your body and he starts striding back, guiding you towards the door and pressing you against it while he plunders your mouth greedily.

Your hands slide down to grip his shirt, pulling him even closer as he presses you into the ornate wooden door. “Dave.” You gasp when he pulls back to let you catch your breath and he trails his kisses along your jaw. “Please.” You beg, needing more from him.

You deserve more than a quick fuck against a door. You deserve to be taken apart and shown how desirable you are. “Where do you want me to fuck you, Princess?” He growls, sliding his hand down to cup your cunt through your dress. “Here? On your husband’s desk? Your bed?”

“Oh God.” You can’t deny the idea of him taking you on Eddie’s beloved desk makes you soak your panties but you want to be fucked by Dave in a bed. “Bed. My bed.” You manage to spit out as he bites down on your neck and rubs your pussy through the silk.

He chuckles darkly, happy you had chosen that option. He wants to spread you out. Pulling away, he decides he’s going to show you how much he wants you. Ducking down, Dave flips you over his shoulder and stands straight despite your shriek of surprise. Striding out of the ballroom and towards the stairs that will take him to your room.

Your hands scramble to grip him so he doesn’t drop you but he carries you up the stairs and practically kicks your door open, throwing you down on the bed. You don’t get a chance to move when he is dragging you down to the edge of the bed, pulling off your shoes. “Want you naked.” He demands and you nod, “undress me.”

He’s not gentle. Not when he’s going to see you naked again. The image is burned into his mind and he wants to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Fabric rips but he just pulls harder in his haste to have you bare. “He’s a fucking idiot.” Dave hisses when he has you out of your dress to work on your undergarments. “I’d be right here. Everyday. Devouring you instead of fucking off.”

His words make you moan. A sound that’s been foreign to you in your prior couplings with your husband. Dave brings out a side of you you’ve never known. His hands work fast to remove your underwear, ripping the stockings and untying the garter belt. When you’re fully bare in front of you, you realize he’s still dressed. “This isn’t fair. You’re still clothed.” You huff, shaking your head at him as he looms above you.

He rolls his eyes but his tie is already gone so he slips the suspenders off his shoulders and starts to unbutton his shirt. “You want me naked, Princess? Over you, inside you like I’ve imagined a thousand times?” He smirks when he moves to shrug out of the shirt. “Jerked my cock raw the night you played with your cunt in front of me. Hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”

You are hypnotized by him as he removes his clothes. “I - I thought you were revolted by me that night. That you didn’t want me.” You confess breathlessly as he works in his trousers and you are so eager to see him.

“Princess, if you could hear the thoughts I was having…” Dave snorts. “The fucking arguement of why it was so stupid to touch you just then. I would have sold my fucking soul for an hour between those pretty thighs.”

You moan at his words and shift to kneel on the bed, reaching out to unbutton his pants, letting them fall to the floor and you reach into his briefs to pull out his hard cock. “Fuck me.” You choke at the sheer size of him, and you squeeze him. “I would’ve sold my soul if I knew you had this hiding in your pants.” You confess, looking up at him.

He chuckles, aware that for all his boasting, Dave has your husband beat in cock size. “You don’t even know if you can take me, Princess. I know that little cunt is tight.” He smirks. “Why don’t you get it nice and wet by sucking my cock like a good little whore?”

His words should insult you. You should slap him for being so crass but instead, it makes you moan. You moan and shuffle closer, your eyes fixed on his as you take him into your mouth. Jaw stretched as you wrap your lips around the head and taste the salt of his pre-cum that gathered.

“Fuck.” Dave hisses, looking down at where you are taking his cock into your mouth. It’s clear that you have no experience in it, Eddie had claimed you were disgusted by the idea, but it was just him you were refusing. “Relax your jaw.” He grunts, caressing your cheek and then sliding his hand down to cup your chin. Feeling your throat move. “Don’t gag.”

You follow his order, relaxing your jaw and you close your eyes to focus on not gagging as he rocks his hips. You want this to be good for him. You want him to enjoy every second of being with you. Your eyes open again just as he thrusts a little too hard and you gag as he pushes down your throat.

Pulling his hips back, Dave waits for you to catch your breath. “Is your cunt dripping? Throbbing from how turned on you are?” He coos, smirking down at your watery face. “You like it. You want me to use you, don’t you?”

You want him to use you, to make you feel things you’ve never felt before. “Yes. Please Dave. I need - I don’t even know what I need. No one - Edward never- please. Use me.” You beg and surge forward to take him into your mouth again.

Dave grunts, grabbing the back of your head and this time, he isn’t gentle. The way you eagerly open up for him has his hips snapping forward and he ignores the way you gag and gasp, enjoying the way your eyes water and your body heaves. Your cunt will be dripping wet by the time he touches you. Holding onto your head, he starts fucking your mouth, showing you how your husband should have been putting that smart little hole to use.

You choke around him, spit flying from your mouth and you moan when his cock twitches violently in your mouth. This is what you want. Passion. Need. Desire. Not just doing a duty. You moan his name, it's muffled around his length but you love when his dark eyes meet your watery ones and he lets out a dark chuckle.

“You love it.” He hums, rubbing his thumb through your spit. “Fuck, I bet you could cum from sucking my cock. Filthy.” He wants to spill down your throat, but he wants to fill you up more. Reluctantly pulling his hips back, he taps your cheek. “Flip over and push your ass up in the air. Legs spread. I want to see that cunt.”

You gasp, trying to catch your breath as a line of spit keeps you connected to him. “Fuck. Yes baby. I- I want you.” You promise and shift to kneel on the bed, settling down onto your elbows so he can see your dripping pussy on display for him.

Goddamn, your cunt is slick and shiny with arousal and Dave’s cock twitches. He reaches out and slaps your ass harshly, loving how you cry out in surprise. “Fuck.”

You cry out again when he smacks you and you love it. Sometimes Edward would smack your face if you displeased him but this - Dave smacking your ass- has you dripping for him. “Please baby. More.” You beg, wanting to feel more from him.

He chuckles, slapping your ass again and grabbing it with both hands. Squeezing it and pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look. He’s had plenty of women, but none that he’s wanted as much as he wants you. He slides a hand down to your cunt and groans at how wet you are. “Such a little whore, aren’t you? My whore.”

You should slap him for speaking to you like that but you can’t. You moan and nod, “yours, Dave. All yours. Your whore.” You promise as his fingers rub your hole to gather up all the arousal that has gathered there.

Dave groans at how wet you are, sliding two of his thick fingers inside you and hissing at how tight you are.

You pant as he pushes his digits deep and you know you’re going to enjoy this more than your own fingers inside of you. “Oh God, Dave.” You whine as he starts to pump his fingers inside of you. “Yessss.” You hiss when he curls them just right and your thighs shake slightly.

“Fuck, he’s been slacking.” He grunts. “I would have had this cunt worn out. Split open on my cock every night until you can't walk.” You aren’t his, but he would be so possessive of you if you were. Pushing him away, he would be so eager to bend you over and feed you his cock into all your holes.

You gasp at his words, gushing around his digits and his thumb presses against your clit. “Oh God. Oh shit. Da-Dave.” You cry as you clamp down on his fingers and moan his name, “I love - I love it.” You choke as he works you through your orgasm. The first you’ve ever had from another person.

Dave hisses at how tight you get, squeezing his fingers like a vice. “That’s it, Princess. You cum for me. Want you to be cock drunk when I’m done with you.” He’s got no intention of stopping now. Not when you have moaned his name because of him, he’s greedy for it.

You press your cheek against the cool sheets as his wet fingers caress your ass. “David.” You plead softly, “I need you to fuck me. Hard.” You beg, needing more from him. You’ve wanted him for so long. You need him now.

“I’m going to, Princess.” He doesn’t say anything else as he kneels behind you, ready to mount up. He knows that you are about to cheat, but you don’t care. He pumps his cock a few times and notches himself at your entrance, pushing deep with a grunt of your name.

You practically sob as he stretches you out. “Dave. Dave. Dave.” You chant as he stretches you more than Edward has ever. You feel like he’s splitting you in two but you fucking love it. You choke as he starts to move, thrusting hard and fast inside of you. You whimper as he thrusts deep, his fingers digging into your flesh and you swear you see stars.

He’s not gentle, you don’t want him to be. His hips slap against your ass while he ruthlessly buries his cock as deep as he can every thrust. Taking you, possessing you in the only way that he knows how and loving every single time you clamp down around him.

He pants as you push back against him, wanting him to take what he wants from you. “Yesss.” You hiss into the sheets, “that’s it baby. Oh God. Keep - keep going.” You plead as his fingers dig into your hips.

Dave groans, rubbing your hip and then slapping your ass right before he pushes deep again. “Good fucking god.” He hisses. “You are perfect. Fucking perfect.” So innocent, yet so fucking filthy. He twitches inside you. “You gonna cum on my cock for me?”

You nod, frantically trying to show him how good you can be for him. “Yes. Yes. I’m gonna - oh shit, Dave. You’re - it’s so good. I love - oh fuck.” You choke as he rocks into you, “I want you to- to show me what I’ve been missing.”

“This cunt is mine.” Dave growls, snapping his hips forward again. “Not his. Mine. Do you understand?” He rocks his hips and reaches around to grab your tit and squeezes. “Understand? You’re my whore now.

“Yes. Yes. Yours. All yours.” You promise as he squeezes your breast and you whimper his name, “I’m yours baby.” You vow as he fucks you into the mattress. Your wedding band glistens in the lamplight but you don’t pay it any mind, too focused on the man fucking you hard.

Dave grunts, knowing that he is getting close to cumming. Trying to hold back until you finish. Knowing that he needs to prove himself better than the piece of shit you’re married to. He slides his hand down to rub your clit as he pounds into you like it’s the last thing he will do.

Your nails dig into the bed sheets as he thrusts deep enough that you swear you feel him in your stomach and you are glad the staff have gone home so they don’t hear your cries of pleasure. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh! Ohhhh!” You squeal as you clamp down on his cock, thighs shaking and you collapse onto the sheets.

You soak him, making him groan. The squelching of his cock loud as he rocks through your orgasm and chases his own. “Fuck, fuck.” He spits out your name. “Gonna cum.”

You should tell him to pull out. To spill on your sheets or your skin. Yet the idea of him filling you up has you climaxing again, clamping down on his cock and he seems to be unable to hold back as he thrusts deep and spills inside of you, painting your walls. “Yessss.” You cry out, closing your eyes and tears push out of them as you moan into the sheets.

Dave growls as he fills you, bending over and covering your body with his while his cum paints your walls. “Fuck.” He pants, his forehead resting against your shoulder and he hisses in pleasure when your walls flutter around him. “You’re perfect.” He murmurs again.

You remain pressed into the mattress, his hot breaths against your skin make you shiver slightly and you revel in the bliss of being touched now you’ve always wanted. Especially by Dave. “God. You too. You too baby.” You murmur, not considering the consequences as you enjoy your betrayal of Edward, the birth of your freedom.

He doesn’t pull out immediately, staying buried inside you. His hand sliding back up to your breast and pinching your nipple. He chuckles when you squeal and nips your shoulder. “Shit.”

“I’ve waited a long time for you to do that.” You confess breathlessly and his chuckle vibrates against your skin. “Me too.” He admits and you turn your head to look at him. “I was convinced that Edward had you keeping me prisoner here for him.”

Dave snorts. “He might have thought that. But I was keeping an eye on you. If I was here, he was less likely to slap you around.” He murmurs softly.

You stiffen slightly at the reminder and Dave misreads and pulls out of you, not touching you as you shift to look at him. “He’s a bastard. I didn’t - my parents promised me to him when I was sixteen. We got married when I completed finishing school. He’s all I have ever known and - and he’s - I don’t think I can survive a lifetime being his wife.”

“I know.” Dave nods seriously. “He’s a bastard and his deeds are worse than you know.” He admits. “I know all his skeletons, and he’s never deserved you. Never deserved to touch you. I know I don’t deserve to touch you either, but I would never hit you.”

You sigh, reaching up to caress his cheek. “I shouldn’t trust you, but I do. You have done nothing but protect me. I know you’ve tried to talk to Eddie about him hitting me. You’ve fought my corner and I am so grateful to you for that, sweetheart.” You confess, sliding your hand down his neck until your palm rests over his heart. “Eddie can never know about this.” You say, “he will kill me.”

He’s a little insulted that you believe that he would let that happen, but he doesn’t push it. Knowing that sometimes seeing is believing. “Nothing will happen to you.” He promises vaguely, sure that you will think that means that Eddie won’t know. “You might be his wife, but you are mine.”

You can’t stop the smile on your face as he declares you as his. “Yours.” You promise, shifting onto your knees so you can lean in to kiss him. “I’m yours, baby.” You promise, “and we have at least a few days to enjoy ourselves.”

Dave smirks. “So you want me to send the staff home?” He asks, curious to see what you want. “Or just limit ourselves to the night when everyone has left?”

“Send them home. I don’t want them blabbing to Eddie about us and I definitely don’t want to miss a moment without touching you while I can.” You say, kissing his neck, “I want my fill of you.”

Chuckling, he reaches down and rubs your tit again. “So we’ll send them home and play house? The little woman gonna cook, clean and let me fuck her?” You snort but Dave knows you know how to cook. You’ve been taught to be a proper wife. “We’ll have a good week, Princess. I’ll take care of you.”

After you explain to the staff that you want a week to yourself to exercise the cooking and cleaning skills you were taught with a promise that they would still be paid, you and Dave are left alone to enjoy each other’s company. You decide to make dinner, getting the chicken from the icebox and you start chopping vegetables to show Dave what a good wife you could be if only Eddie hadn’t trapped you in this gilded cage.

Dave grunts and he walks into the kitchen, finding you in your bare feet and a house dress that he knows you aren’t wearing anything under. Even if it’s not traditionally lingerie, it’s sexy. To see you so relaxed. His cock twitches and he has found himself addicted to you. Fucking you all over the house, but he hasn’t taken you in the kitchen yet. He smirks to himself as he comes behind you and grabs your hips to press you against the cabinets. “Never figured a shapeless house dress would be so appealing.” He groans in your ear. “But I know all you have under it is your wet cunt, still slick from my spit.” He had taught you that a real man eats a cunt and you had begged him for it every morning so far.

You whimper as he kisses along your neck, “fuck. I- I love it. Wanted - wanted you to be able to touch me whenever you want.” You confess as you set the knife down on the counter and turn your head so you can press your lips to his.

Dave has touched you whenever he wanted. Done what he’s wanted with your body and you’ve loved it. Screamed his name every time when you’ve cum and confessed you’ve never cum so much in a week. His tongue slides into your mouth insistently and he presses his hard cock against your ass. Grinding against you as he kisses you and only when you’re breathless does he pull back. “Can you keep making dinner while I fuck you?” He asks, smirking as he slides the material up and sinks his hand between your thighs. “Keep cutting your vegetables while my cock is buried in your little cunt?”

You pant as he rubs your clit and you close your eyes for a second until he withdraws his hand and you whine. "Keep cutting." He demands and you pick up the knife with a shaky hand, moving extra slow to not cut yourself as he rubs your clit while his lips press against the nape of your neck.

“That’s it, Princess.” He praises roughly, loving how you will do anything and everything he asks of you. His fingers work your clit and he pulls his other hand back to work the belt of his trousers open. Foregoing suspenders today. “Gonna feel so good. Might want to eat with you on my cock.”

You pant as he touches you until he’s withdrawing his hand and you whine, annoyed until he lifts your dress higher and kicks your ankles apart, gripping his cock until he positions himself at your entrance. You gasp, nearly dropping the knife as he pushes into you. “Oh shit. Dave.” You moan at the sudden way he enters you.

“Oh shit is right.” Dave grits out. “You’re so tight, Princess. Your greedy little cunt just squeezes my cock tight.” He praises. “So fucking good. Keep chopping.” He orders, drawing his hips back and filling you again, just as quickly. Groaning your name as he sets a steady, even pace.

You cling to the knife, closing your eyes as he rocks into you, and you whimper, loving how it feels to have him inside of you like those. “Fuck Dave.” You whine and he growls, “keep cutting.” You obey, shifting to continue cutting the vegetables, and nearly chop off the tip of your finger as he hits something incredible inside of you.

Dave hisses, closing his eyes as he thrusts into you again and again. He’s already filled you up so many times, he’s sure you’re pregnant. You would have to be, but he doesn’t care. He wants you to be. Just to show the world you are his. “So fucking good, Princess. You gonna cum?”

You groan as he rocks into you, “fuck baby. I- Dave. Oh shit.” You choke, the knife clattering to the counter as he works you closer to your orgasm. “Yes - yea -yes. I’m gonna - oh God!” You squeal, lifting onto your tiptoes as he pushes you higher on the counter and he makes you cum hard.

He loves it. Loves how tight you get and how hard you cum. Soaking his length and squeezing it so damn tight he can barely move as you flutter around him. “Perfect.” He groans and rocks you through it before you relax and he can get his own.

You clench your fists as he tries to move inside of you. “Cum for me, Dave. Need - need to feel it. Please.” You beg, turning back to look at him over your shoulder. “Cum for me, my love.” You order, needing to feel him paint your walls for the umpteenth time.

Dave growls your name, feeling incredibly possessive as he fucks into your frantically. Needing to claim you, mark you as his own again and his hips bang you into the counter as he chases his orgasm. Thrusting deep and stiffening as he pumps you full of his seed with a groan of pleasure.

You moan as you watch him, panting as he thrusts slowly to ride out his orgasm and you love how good it feels to have him touch you like this. Your time is coming to an end. Eddie will be returning in the morning and you know you’ll be aching for Dave when he has to retreat from your bed.

Dave pants, dropping his head onto your shoulder as he catches his breath. “Fuck.” He moans softly, chuckling. “It keeps getting better.” He muses, pulling out of you gently to tuck himself away.

You nod, feeling his cum start to drip as he pulls out of you but you don’t care as you grab the knife and resume cutting up the vegetables. “Dinner won’t be too long.” You tell him as he adjusts his suspenders and lowers your house dress. You desperately wish Eddie wasn’t coming back. That you could stay in this domestic bliss with Dave forever. That’s not going to happen though. Especially when you don’t notice the front door being opened.

“I’m home!” Eddie calls out, making Dave stiffen slightly. “Where the fuck is everyone?” He shouts. Dave doesn’t look at you, just disappears through the doorway to go greet your husband. “Your wife was bored so I sent the staff home.” He greets Eddie with a smirk that is completely for show. “Let her cook and clean.”

Your back stiffens as you hear Eddie shout out and you hiss as you catch your finger with the knife, blood starting to drip from your skin. You set the knife down just as Eddie walks into the kitchen, Dave’s cum slick on your inner thighs. “Hello darling.” He greets you and comes over to press a kiss to your lips. “Look at you, acting like a domestic goddess.” He mocks you as he grabs your wrist, “can’t even cut some vegetables up.” He scoffs, “I’ll call the staff back right away. I want things done properly around here.” He says as he lets go of your wrist, blood trickling down your finger.

Dave can tell you are upset and he catches Eddie’s attention. “Come let me tell you how everything’s been going.” He tells him. “Have a drink and you can relax. I know you are tired from work.”

You watch the men leave, your eyes burning into Dave’s back as he walks out of the kitchen and tears sting in your eyes. Was this all a game to him? To seduce you and leave you in this terrible marriage. Tears stream down your cheeks and mix with the water as you wash your hand and bandages your finger up, finishing up the vegetables and putting the chicken in to cook while you bathe to wash Dave’s cum from your thighs.

Dave forces a smile on his face while he listens to Eddie boast about the little whore he had been fucking all week. Lying about his prowess when he knows the other man does a shit job with fucking. “Decided I needed to come home and finally get my useless wife pregnant.” He huffs. “Although if she doesn’t give me a son soon, I’m going to leave her.” Dave pretends to look understanding but he wants to choke the man. “I don’t think that you’re gonna be able to right now.” He tells him. “She’s been complaining about womanly things.” He confides.

****

Dinner is served in the dining room, Eddie and Dave seated at one end of the table, you at the other. You had changed into an evening dress and laid out the dinner for you and the men. “Needs more seasoning. It’s a bit overcooked.” Eddie tells Dave who doesn’t glance over at you. You miss those dark brown eyes already. You reach for your glass of wine, downing it, and you don’t know how long you can suffer being prisoner in this house with Eddie.

Dave hums and cleans his plate, eating every bite of the delicious food. Everything was perfect, your husband just enjoys finding faults with you. Dave knows he’s never loved you, never really wanted more than your connections, your name attached to his. “I’m going to stay tonight.” Dave tells him. “My housekeeper has the week off since you were supposed to be back tomorrow.”

“Of course. Stay. You might want to take one of the rooms on the other side of the house.” Eddie whispers and you don’t hear as you stand up, “I’m going to clean up and retreat to my quarters. Dessert is on the counter if you wish to have it.” You tell the men after they stand up and Dave looks at you for the first time since Edward returned. “Goodnight Eddie. Goodnight David.” You say and take your plate to the kitchen to wash it up. You feel a little sick at the fact that the week with Dave will always be in your mind, a taste of what freedom could feel like.

Dave frowns slightly, unhappy that the idiot had ignored his lie that you were experiencing your monthly bleeding. Instead of pressing it, which would seem strange, he just grunts. He has no intention of sleeping anywhere but your bed.

****

You are in your nightgown, ready for bed, when there’s a knock at your door. You grin, thinking it’s Dave and you rush over to the door, flinging it open and your stomach drops when it’s Edward standing there, glass of whiskey in hand. “To what do I owe this honor?” You ask, unable to withhold an attitude - something you’ve picked up from Dave over the week. Eddie steps into your room, shutting the door behind him and you swallow harshly. “I want to fuck my wife after I’ve been gone all week.” He declares and you shake your head, “I am having my monthly bleed. You can’t - you don’t like it.” You remind him of his disgust for your natural cycle - a reminder of your failures as his wife, you suppose. “I don’t give a fuck about that. Need to get you pregnant.” He grunts and steps closer, “lay down. I won’t be long.” He promises, working on removing his suspenders. You know it would be suspicious to argue, to refuse him. You want to scream at him that no one is allowed inside of you except Dave. Only if you said that, you and Dave would be on the line. You could run away, you could push him back, but you won’t. You need to do this and you willingly do it to protect yourself. You shift to lay down on your sheets, staring up at the ceiling as Eddie shoves your nightgown up. There’s no arousal, there’s no pleasure. You wince as he pushes inside of you, closing your eyes as you imagine Dave, the way he looks when he first thrusts into your cunt. The awestruck look in those gorgeous eyes as he ensures you always climax before he does. The look of concentration as he adjusts his thrusts according to your moans. It makes you wet enough to accommodate your husband as he ruts into you. A tear escapes and rolls down your cheek but Edward doesn’t notice. His fingers dig into your flesh and you clench around him, trying to spur him on to finish faster. Eddie grunts several more times before he lets out a low moan, his hot seed coating your walls and you keep your eyes shut, trying to imagine it’s Dave filling you up. He lowers your legs and tucks his cock away. “Keep lying down. Need you to give a son, goddamn it, woman.” He growls and you nod, staring up at the ceiling as he exits your bedroom without another word. You quickly sit up, making your way into your en-suite to wash his cum out of you, scrubbing your skin clean until it burns and finally, you collapse back in your bed and curl into a ball, praying he didn’t get you pregnant, that you aren’t trapped here forever.

Dave scowls from the shadow of the alcove beyond your room as Eddie walks past him. Imagining dragging him back and beating him to death in front of you. Instead, he says nothing, waiting another few minutes to make sure the bastard doesn't decide to come back for another round before he moves from his spot. Silently approaching your door and slipping inside, locking it behind him to keep everyone out. The sight of you curled up on your bed breaks his head and Dave moves over to you quickly.

When Dave curls around you, his strong arms dragging you back into his chest, you break down. Turning, you sob into his chest at the fact that you could never be with him. Eddie won’t let you know. He’d rather kill you than let you divorce him, and now, he’s going to get you pregnant so you can’t leave him. Dave rubs your back, holding you close and kissing your hair until you fall asleep, tear stained face relaxing as you let the man you love hold you.

Dave holds you all night. He doesn’t move, doesn’t shift you away from him. Even if his clothes are not as comfortable as stripping down, he doesn’t let you go. Knowing you need the comfort he can bring you, and he enjoys that you find comfort in him. Never experiencing that until you. He doesn’t even sleep, just continues to rub your back when you shift and murmurs soft words to ease you back to sleep.

****

It’s been a month since the night Edward came into your room and you stare at the calendar on your vanity. Counting down the days until your next bleed and you’re overdue. “Shit.” You hiss, unsure of how to feel. If you are pregnant, you’re almost certain it’s Dave’s. Edward has fucked you in the past three years and your cycle has always been exactly on time. You bite your lip, unsure of what to tell your husband or Dave and when your housekeeper comes in, you request that she has the butler send for the doctor. You need to know for certain if you are with child. After that…you’ll figure it out. While you wait for the doctor, you feel ill and end up lying down on your bed, thinking of Dave. He has to return home more often than not to keep up appearances but when he stays in the house, he stays in your bed. His hand over your mouth to smother your moans as he takes you in the middle of the night while Eddie sleeps. In the daytime, he keeps his distance, barely speaking to you in front of Edward and you miss the days he’d sit and talk to you for hours about everything and nothing.

Dave has his ear to the ground in every corner of the house. Keeping an eye on what Eddie is doing and how you are being treated. There’s been no abuse since he’s been back, although he’s fucked you a few more times. Each time, Dave has come into your room when he leaves, comforting you and holding you while you cry. While he silently continues to get ready for his departure from Eddie’s employment. When the housekeeper rushes to call the doctor, Dave frowns slightly, wondering if you’ve caught something and makes his way to your room.

You wipe your eyes as the door to your room opens and you look in the mirror of your vanity to find Dave standing there. “Is everything okay?” He asks and you shake your head, lower lip trembling. “I- I - I am late. To bleed. I think I’m with child.” You confess, standing up on shaky legs to wrap your arms around Dave, needing his comfort.

Dave’s eyes widen and he immediately looks down to your stomach even as he folds you into his arms. “It is okay.” He promises you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “If you are pregnant, then you are pregnant. I knew it could happen. I will not be upset.”

You sniff, shaking your head, and you cup his cheek. “What if…what if it’s Edward’s? It’s - there’s a chance. I can’t - I’d be trapped here forever.” You choke, starting to panic.

“I doubt it’s Edward’s.” Dave comforts you quietly, holding you tightly and shaking his head. “If it is Edward’s child by some small chance, it makes no difference with my plans. You will not be stuck with him.”

You frown at his words, wondering what he has planned but before you can ask, there’s a knock at the door. You pull back from Dave just as your maid enters to announce the doctor’s arrival. You glance at Dave, anxious for your examination. The doctor orders for you to lay down on the bed, and you wish Dave could come over and hold your hand. “You are dismissed, Mr. York.” Your maid tells Dave, her eyes suspicious as she wonders why Dave was in your room. Dave nods, his eyes meeting yours for a second until he exits the room. You want to demand he stays but that would be strange to the staff. The doctor takes your blood and you wince as his hands push your dress up. Pressing his hand to your stomach, he hums and pushes two fingers into you, making you grimace. “We need a urine sample as well.” He declares and you get off of the bed after he shifts away from you. Peeing into the small cup, you pray that if you are pregnant, the baby is Dave’s. At least you’ll have some part of him when your affair has to end because of Edward. You come out to find the doctor examining the samples with the heavy equipment he had brought up and he’s there for a while until he says “you’re pregnant, Mrs. Holt.” You nod, absorbing the news, unsure of if you should be happy or not.

“Your husband will be most pleased.” He’s aware that Edward wants a son and he is pulling out some pills for you to take. “To help with the nausea to come and settle your nerves.” He explains. “You are not too far along so if you experience heavy spotting, please call.”

Your maid takes the pills and nods, “we will call if there is anything amiss.” She promises and you nod, a little dumbstruck by the news. You’ve done everything you could to avoid getting pregnant by Edward. You pray the baby is Dave’s. Even if you’re stuck with Edward, at least you’ll have a part of the man you love and the happy memories. Your hand slides down to your stomach and the doctor soon leaves. “Congratulations, ma’am.” She smiles at you. You offer her a weak smile back. “Shall I bring you something to eat?” She asks and you nod, “yes please.” She exits your bedroom, leaving you to absorb the news. Second after she leaves, your door opens and Dave slides into your bedroom. “What did he say?” He asks, anxious as you were, and you look at him, “he confirmed it. I’m pregnant.”

Dave nods seriously, trying to gauge your feelings as he steps closer to you. “Pregnant.” He murmurs softly. “So I guess I can’t fuck you?” He asks and you shake your head. “Sex is still allowed, but Dave…” he cuts you off and lunges forward to press his lips to yours harshly. Wanting to remind you that no matter what, you are his.

You moan into his mouth, your fingers gripping his suspenders to pull him closer so you can press your entire body against him. You belong to him, your heart belongs to him. His ring isn’t on your fingers and you’re not sure if it’s his child inside of you, but the rest of you is entirely his. “I love you.” You murmur breathlessly as he pulls back to work on removing your clothes, exposing the stomach that hasn’t just rounded with the baby inside of you. Potentially his baby.

Dave groans as he caresses your stomach and leans down. “You know how I feel.” He tells you before biting your nipple through the fabric of your bra. He doesn’t have too long before the maid returns but he wants to make you feel good. “Unzip my pants, Princess.”

You do know how he feels in the way he touches you, the nights he spends wrapped around you. It’s a tragic tale. A story of two people that love each other but can never be. All you have for now is his touch. You won’t waste a second. You fumble to unzip his pants and you reach in to pull his half hard cock out of his briefs. You hook your fingers in your panties, pushing them down your legs but keeping your stockings and garter belt on as you grab his tie and guide him back towards your bed. “Fuck me, David.” You order, wanting to lose yourself in his touch while you can.

He chuckles at your impatience, though he feels the same way. Following you onto the bed and he wishes he had time to lay you out, to feast on you. To make you limp from pleasure before he ever slides inside you. “We’re gonna have a baby.” He murmurs, reminding you that he’s with you, even if the baby is not his.

You watch him spit in his hand and pump his cock a few times to get harder and you shift to lay on the bed, your head against your pillows as he shifts to hover over you, his hand trailing along your inner thigh. He pushes you open to accommodate his body between your legs and he guides his cock to your cunt, slowly pushing in and you moan at the look on his face as he claims you as his.

Dave groans your name. Reaching down to pull you up to his lips as he starts to move. Loving how you are so sensitive to him. Clenching down his cock and whimpering his name.

Your hands slide along his arms, caressing the hair at the nape of his neck before you loop your arms around his neck, dragging him down on top of you, wanting to feel the weight of him. He shifts to his elbows, keeping his weight off of your stomach and you moan when he kisses along your neck. “Gotta be quiet, sweetheart.” He reminds you and you nod, biting your lip as he moves inside of you.

Dave rocks into you again and again. Watching you as he does to make sure he doesn’t hurt you by accident. Even as rough as he has been on his harshest with you, he wants you to enjoy yourself. Doesn’t want to hurt the baby.

Your nails dig into the back of his neck as he pushes you closer to your orgasm, falling over the edge when his fingers find your clit, and you whimper his name, trying to keep quiet.

“Dave!” You choke, clamping down on his cock.

****

“Oh God, Dave!” You moan, your hand finding his as he moves inside of you. It’s the middle of the night and Dave snuck into your room to see you. His body curls around yours as he rocks into you from behind, his fingers rubbing your clit to work you through your orgasm until his hand slides up to your bump. You’re due any day now. Secretly terrified that the baby is Edward’s. Your husband is over the moon, telling everyone his son will be here any day now, and you want to scream at him that it could be Dave’s child. It might not be a boy either. Edward has been strangely affectionate towards you, no longer hitting you or belittling you. He has been disappearing to his whores still but he hasn’t been cruel to you during your pregnancy. Dave has been here, decided to move in after Edward insisted he move in to protect you during his extended “business trips.” Obviously, you and Dave loved the idea and for the past nine months, you and Dave have continued your affair under the nose of your husband. “Cum for me.” You murmur, turning your head to nudge your nose against Dave’s jaw as it clenches with his imminent orgasm.

“I love you.” Dave groans out, knowing how much you love hearing that. You’ve grown more beautiful as the months have gone by and he has enjoyed seeing you swell with his child. He knows it’s his child, he feels it. The baby inside you responding to his voice, his presence. He takes such satisfaction from the fact that you have been safe here and Dave hasn’t wanted to move forward with his plans just yet because of your pregnancy. So he has been taking care of you this entire time while waiting for the perfect place

He pushes deep into you and groans into your neck as he cums, painting your walls with his seed and you sigh in bliss. The baby moves beneath Dave's hand as he caresses your bump. "I love you." You whisper, silently praying that the baby is Dave's. You turn your head to kiss the man you love, nudging your nose against his as he relaxes behind you. "Not long now." He murmurs and you nod, "baby is coming any day now." You feel apprehensive, scared for the pains of childbirth and terrified to find out who the father is once and for all.

Dave doesn’t pull out of you, staying buried inside you as you sigh again. “Don’t worry.” He murmurs, rubbing your stomach gently. “I just wish I could be with you.” Even if he was your husband, he wouldn’t be allowed to be in the room while you are giving birth, and he hates it.

You feel yourself tear up at the fact that he won't be in the room with you. You place your hand over his, "I wish you could too." You murmur, closing your eyes as he remains inside of you, surrounding you.

****

Your scream echoes through the house, your forehead soaked with sweat as you bear down once again. "That's it, Mrs. Holt. Keep pushing." The midwife orders and you shake your head as you grip the sheets. "I- I can't." You choke, "so tired." You murmur and your maid slaps you awake. "You can." She demands and you start to sob, "please. I need Dave." You beg, lost in the haze of your pain. "You need to push." Daisy, your maid demands, and you scream through gritted teeth, pushing as hard as you can on the next contraction until finally, the pressure releases and you gasp in a breath as the pain immediately recedes. A cry fills the air seconds later and it's a blur as the midwife wraps the baby up and carries it to you to place it on your bare chest. "It's a boy." She declares and you look down at the baby in your arms. Your eyes scan his features as he wails in your arms, and you start to sob again.

Dave doesn’t even act like he wasn’t listening to every scream, every cry. Sitting by himself outside the door. Edward had disappeared to go be with his lover as soon as you had started moaning in pain. Telling Dave to send word once his son had been born. At least he hadn’t had to pretend that he didn’t care. He hadn’t demanded to be in the room, but he hadn’t left. Looking up from the drink in his hand every time the door opened. Now, with the cry of a baby, he leaps to his feet and pushes into the room as he calls out your name.

You look up with tears streaming down your cheeks as Dave barges into the room, ignoring the cries of protest from the other women, and he immediately comes to your side, kissing your forehead. "Are you okay?" He asks, wanting to make sure you aren't suffering from more than childbirth itself. "I-" You can't speak as you adjust the baby at your breast so Dave can see his face. He looks just like his father. Dave's signature nose and there's no denying who his father is. He doesn't look like Edward at all. "Your son." You mouth, eyes crinkling with happiness as you cradle the baby.

“My son.” Dave murmurs in awe, caressing your cheek and staring down at the babe in your arms. He doesn’t give a damn if they know now that you have been unfaithful to Edward. All that matters is that you and the baby are safe. “Our son, Princess. You have done such a good job.” He kisses your forehead and leans in to kiss the baby. “I love you.” He whispers softly as the baby quiets down when he hears his voice. He had talked to your stomach a lot during the late night hours when he couldn’t sleep.

Daisy isn't dumb. She knows about you and Dave but she has kept it to herself. Edward has treated you horribly during your marriage and she has never seen you so happy when David is around. Your secret is safe with her. You want to kiss him but the midwife is pushing down on your stomach for the afterbirth and you are exhausted. Once the placenta has been accounted for, the midwife carries the baby off to bathe him and weigh him, and Daisy helps you clean up and changes the sheets to let you rest in the bed. Dave remains in the room the entire time, and eventually, the midwife is letting you rest and placing the baby in the bassinet. No one says a word as they exit the room and leave Dave watching over his family. The silence only lasts a few minutes until the baby starts to cry and Dave walks over to the bassinet, quickly scooping his son into his arms. He walks over to the window, looking at his son before he looks up at the stars. "You are destined for incredible things, my boy. You will be the best of me and your mother." He promises, leaning in to kiss the baby's forehead as he settles down in his arms. Dave stands there for a while watching the baby sleep until the door flings open. "Dave, you did not send word! The butler sent a car for me. Let me see him." Edward rushes over to Dave and you are woken up by the noise and your sleepy eyes widen as Dave holds the baby.

“It’s a boy? The driver told me it was a boy.” In his excitement, he doesn’t question why Dave is holding his son and is shocked when your lover pulls back so Edward can’t touch him. “You will not touch my son.” Dave growls, finally allowing his hatred for Edward to shine through his eyes as he looks at the other man in disgust. “That’s right, he’s mine. Your wife is mine. I got her pregnant. I filled her with my seed and satisfied her in ways you could never imagine.” Dave chuckles at the shocked look on Eddie’s face as the maid rushes over to take his son from his arms. “You are through, Edward. I’ve managed to take all your business partners. They will be ending their dealings with you. While you were off fucking your whores, I was replacing you. In business and in your life.” He smirks. “Your wife is in love with me and I’m going to marry her. Give our son my last name and raise him.”

Edward’s eyes widen and he looks over at you, waiting for a denial but you don’t say a word. He knows it’s true. The man he’s trusted most in the world with everything has pulled the rug out from under him. “You motherfucker.” Eddie growls, advancing on Dave and Daisy holds the baby, backing up against the wall. Dave easily dodges the hit and raises his arm to punch your husband in the jaw. “I don’t want to fight you. Just want you to let us walk away.” Dave says as Eddie bows over in pain. “No. No. You can’t take her. She’s mine. She’s my fucking wife. Her family money. It’s mine.” He growls as surges forward to hit Dave again.

Dave blocks the clumsy attempt and his next punch knocks Edward down onto the carpeted floor. Making him groan in pain and Dave points at him. “I’ve killed men, Ed, don’t make me kill you.” He growls, not wanting you to be more upset than you already are. Daisy rushes towards the bed and gives you the baby after you start crying. “Stay down.” He warns, but Edward is too crazed by anger. “You bastard!” He hisses as he struggles to his feet. “You were nothing but a thug when I met you. I made you and you betrayed me?” He lunges forward again and Dave strikes first, punching him in the gut and then giving him another uppercut that damn near knocks the man out as he drops to the ground. “It’s done.” Dave spits.

You shake your head, “please Eddie. Just walk away.” You beg, cradling the baby who is crying at the noise, and Eddie sees you sitting there with a child that is not his and he sees red. “You fucking bitch. You’re a goddamn whore! I should kill you and that bastard in your arms.” He growls and surges forward towards you but Dave grabs him, swinging him around and Edward hisses, grabbing the knife from his belt. Dave spots it immediately and grabs Edward’s arm, twisting it and he doesn’t think. He just acts as he shoves Edward towards the window. The glass breaks as Edward flies out of the third floor window, glass shatters on the floor and Dave watches as the man he considered a friend many years ago plunges to his death. You scream, the baby crying in your arms and you watch Dave inhale deeply, chest heaving as Edward is flung out of the window.

Dave looks down at the broken and bloody body for a second before he looks back at Daisy, his eyes dark. “I- he attacked you.” Daisy stutters, terrified of what she’s just witnessed. “He went crazy and you couldn’t reason with him, Mr. York.” She knows that is the truth, but if the police know that you and Dave had cuckolded Edward, they would arrest him for murder.

You’re shaking as you try to calm the baby, trying to soothe him as your heart pounds. Edward is dead. “Da-Dave.” You stammer, needing reassurance from him, to know he’s okay. You saw the knife and you were terrified that Dave was going to be killed.

His gaze slides from Daisy to you and he softens immediately, rushing over to you and crushing you and the baby to his chest. “It’s okay, it’s over.” He promises you. “He’ll never hurt you again, he’ll never touch our son.” He kisses your forehead several times and then presses his lips to yours before kissing the baby. “It’s okay.” He croons gently. He’s a harsh man, but he would never hurt those he loves and you and his son are at the top of that list. “It’s okay, baby boy. You’re safe, you’re safe with mama and papa.”

You sob as he curls around you, protecting you from everything outside of this room, even your now deceased husband. “I love you.” You murmur, kissing him softly and you cradle the baby. “Please don’t leave me.” You beg, needing him here, needing him to be here with you and the baby. “We need to name our son.” You tell Dave, pulling back to look at him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Dave promises. “What do you want to name him, baby?” He asks softly. Soon the police will be here but he wants to pick out a name first. “We can wait until we are married.” He offers. “Give him my last name officially.”

You nod, “yes. I want him to have your last name. I want to call him Samuel. After your father.” You tell Dave softly. He had told you about his family and you reach up to caress his cheek. “No matter what happens. I love you. I am yours, David York.”

“I love you too.” He promises softly, pressing his lips against yours once more. He had fallen in love with you and tried to stay away. Unable to resist the temptation of you and now he has you, a beautiful son and you will never have to worry about him lifting a hand to you. He will kill for you and his son, he’s already proven that.

****

You remove your earrings, looking at Dave in the mirror of your vanity as he works on taking off his tie and cufflinks. “Last one married off.” He chuckles, setting down the cufflinks on the side. “Five children. Five weddings. Makes me think of ours. The little courthouse wedding we had after the police let you out of questioning and Edward was buried.” You haven’t thought of your ex husband for many years. You and Dave had to wait until Edward was buried before you could be married then your first son was officially a York and so were you. Edward’s estate became yours as his widow and you decided to sell the estate and find somewhere new with David. “I’ve been thinking about that.” Dave hums as he walks over to you and reaches into his pocket. He kneels down and your eyes widen, “baby?” You gasp when he opens a velvet box to display a beautiful diamond ring. “Marry me again. Renew our vows. I want us to have the wedding we should’ve had.” He declares and you sniff, tears gathering in your eyes. “Yes. Always yes.” You promise, leaning in to press your lips to his after you cup his cheeks. “I love you, Dave.” You murmur and he nudges his nose against yours, sliding the ring onto your finger next to the simple gold band he got you for your wedding. “I love you too, Princess.” He promises, “I’d do anything for you.” He murmurs softly and you smile, “even kill.” You remind him and he chuckles, “even kill.” He says and helps you stand up, wanting to remind you how much he loves you. You never imagined that you’d be rescued from a loveless, abusive marriage but Dave was your knight in shining armor.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york imagine #dave york fanfiction #equalizer 2 #1920s AU

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penkura · 2 days

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last forever [9/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: Post-timeskip, go let's go. Of course, they're a little older now, we know Zoro is 21, so Reader is now 20. :) This chapter IS shorter than the others that are left, but that just means we're getting into the better parts of the story. I really can't wait for you all to see what's next. :)

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7] ● [Ch. 8]

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt such strong anxiety about seeing people, not since the last time you’d met with your parents’ chosen fiancé for you, but it’s come back in spades at the thought of seeing your crew again after two years.

At the thought of seeing Zoro again, more than anything.

The thought of him deciding to dissolve your marriage when he sees you again is the main source of your anxiety, what you try to push away as you leave the lovely group of swordswomen who took care of you for the last two years, those who you’d told about your situationship with Zoro wishing you the best as they dropped you off. You hope no one is jinxing anything, but still feel nervous every time you see someone or something that could be Zoro as you go about, looking for things to purchase and for your friends.

When Nami and Usopp find you, the happiness between the three of you makes all your worries and anxieties dissipate for the time being. Both hug you so tightly, a three-person group hug, you almost cry out of happiness at seeing them again, before Nami starts fawning over how you look so much stronger yourself. She can’t believe how different you seem! She adores your outfit of course, a fitted tank top with knee-length shorts to match and ankle boots, your beloved sword from Elias still attached to your hip. You tell her how wonderful she looks, giving Usopp the same compliment as the three of you start making your way towards Sunny, running into a distraught Chopper who you’re able to calm down after an explanation of the fake Starw Hats on Sabaody.

Chopper gives you a big hug and lets you carry him the rest of the way, its like you have a child but you don’t mind it. You’ll baby Chopper all he wants, it’s the least you can do after he’d taken such great care of you all as your crew’s doctor before you were separated.

Once you make it to Sunny, you’re glad to see your ship and home is safe, and receive compliments from Franky and Robin regarding how more grown up you look. You are twenty now, after all, but it makes you smile shyly and your face feel warm as you thank them both.

After Chopper leaves to retrieve the missing members of your crew once Brook arrives, you start to feel your anxiety creep in again, Robin noticing right away and giving you a soft smile.

“Zoro will be glad to see you again.”

“You,” you gulp a bit, smiling nervously now, “you think so?”

“I do. You two have been close since I’ve been with everyone, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you’re well.”

You really do hope Robin is right, especially when you hear Chopper calling for you all, the large bird he’d left on returning now with Luffy, Sanji, and Zoro aboard as well. You surprise yourself by not crying when you see Zoro, instead grinning brightly and joining Usopp at waving widely to the three of them, shouting their names.

It slightly catches Zoro off guard to see you so happy, but still makes him keep his own smile on his face when he sees you. Robin is correct, though Zoro doesn’t know that, but he is truly glad to see you’re fine, you look so much stronger than two years ago, and seeing how you keep yourself up on your feet when Luffy flings himself down to give you a hug, he’s even more impressed. He wants, needs, to talk to you alone, but after making it on deck, Luffy still hasn’t let you go, Zoro realizes its going to be a bit before he can take you elsewhere to talk, especially so once Sanji recovers from his nosebleed and also gives you a hug. He turns to fawning over you like Nami did, telling you how lovely you look.

Zoro can’t disagree with that statement.

He gives you time with Sanji, who continues to talk to you and tries to tell you about his own two years, until he notices you’re constantly glancing past him, and he knows exactly why.

Sanji smiles at you, before taking you by the shoulder and pushing you towards Zoro, essentially telling you to go see your husband already, he’s been waiting for you to be free so you could talk maybe. It makes you smile at him before you finally walk over to Zoro, who had turned to leaning against the rail with his arms crossed and eyes closed, until you tap his shoulder and he opens his one good eye to see you.

“Hey there.”

“Hey.”

You feel nervous, for some reason, before you notice the scar over his left eye finally and tilt your head.

“What happened with your eye?”

“Training accident,” Shrugging, Zoro stands up straight and you realize he’s gotten slightly taller in the last two years, he notices the same for you but you’re still shorter than him, “Come with me for a bit, yeah?”

Nodding, you follow Zoro up to the crow’s nest, the two of you briefly talking about your two years. You’re amazed to hear he trained under Mihawk, while Zoro is beyond impressed you ended up in a village for swordswoman. He knew you looked stronger, he can’t wait to see how much better you’ve become with your sword.

Once you’re both in the crow’s nest, before you can say anything else, Zoro surprises you this time but hugging you as tightly as he can, which you return once you’ve shaken off the shock that he’s initiated this. You thought the two years would make the two of you drift apart, not being around each other or anything, but perhaps you’d just been paranoid the whole time.

Don’t cry, I don’t want to cry right now…

“I missed you.”

He’s making it difficult for you not to cry, so you just nod a bit, biting your tongue to keep from crying.

“I missed you too, Zoro…”

Neither of you say anything for a while, you’re impressed the rest of your crew hasn’t tried to bother and bring you both back down with everyone, but you’re also grateful for it. You both need this, just some time together, time alone, it’s probably not enough time to discuss your marriage and what’s next, but you don’t really care that much.

“I…I love you…”

Zoro nods, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead briefly.

“I know.”

That’s enough for you right now, it still makes you smile up at him, before you frown a bit, causing Zoro to raise an eyebrow at you.

“My parents…they still want me to go back and marry him…”

“Oh yeah?”

You nod, staying quiet for a moment before you sigh and lay your head back against his chest and gripping his top while he strokes your hair a bit. He may not agree with what you’re about to say, but after two and a half years, your marriage could only be ended by divorce, a thought you’ve hated since this came into being. You even hated the thought of the annulment plans, and now, you two only had the choices of divorcing or staying married.

“I don’t want a divorce…”

“We’re not gonna. Not now,” Zoro hugs you a little tighter, one arm around your shoulders and the other around your waist as he gives you a kiss on the top of your head, “I won’t let anyone take you away from the crew, even if we stay married forever.”

“Thank you…thank you so, so much, Zoro…”

“Of course. I’d never let anyone force you into anything, wife.”

+!+

You think Fishman Island was one of the fastest “get to city enter battle” events you’ve experienced do far, maybe second only to Sabaody. Your crew was separated almost immediately, you ended up with Nami and she took you to the shops right away, demanding discounts and trying to put cute clothes on you, things she swears Zoro would probably like to see you in with a grin while you shy away and push her off a bit. Admitting to her and Robin that you’re in love with Zoro might have been a mistake, but at least you have people to talk to about the situation.

Of course, though, nothing is easy as a member of the Straw Hats and you all quickly are defending the Ryugyu Kingdom from Hordy Jones, fighting off masses of Fishmen to protect yourselves and the innocent citizens of the kingdom.

While you don’t take out anywhere near as many enemies as Zoro or Sanji, you still fight enough to help keep them at bay, getting some compliments post-battle from your crewmates and some of the citizens. It makes you feel both shy and proud at the same time, your two years of training weren’t a waste after all, even Zoro can see the changes in your fighting style and how well your attacks land now. You don’t look as nervous as you used to either, despite the confidant air you’d put on back then. The little bout you two had when you asked to stay with him, he saw you shaking so badly because you were scared but also still recovering from being sick, you tried your best and Zoro could see that, it’s part of why he had no problem with you following him, especially once you let him start teaching you more about swordsmanship.

You’ve definitely improved from the shaky, scared girl he met four years ago.

You feel like Zoro hasn’t changed at all, despite the scar over his left eye and definitely becoming bulkier, he was still the same to you. Still makes your heart flutter when you watch him fight, he still checks on you after fights, it makes you happy to see he’s still the same. He’s still Zoro, of course he wouldn’t change.

“Hey, come with me for a minute.”

During the celebration that’s being thrown for you all as thanks for saving Fishman Island, Zoro takes your hand leads you off again, just the two of you. It makes you comment that if he keeps taking you away from everyone, someone is going to get the wrong idea, but Zoro just shrugs it off. He doesn’t really care what others think still, you’ve always known that.

Once you’re far enough away from everyone, he guides you to sit beside him before surprising you with what he says next.

“We should talk about our situation.”

The fact Zoro actually wants to discuss what’s going to happen next is the surprise, but you still nod, agreeing with him.

“Change your mind on us divorcing?”

“No, I haven’t,” Zoro brushes a bit of hair behind your ear, placing his hand on your cheek which makes you smile at him, “We’re not divorcing unless you want to, but…I think we should try, you know, dating, or whatever you want to call it…”

You blink a few times, completely confused and shocked before tilting your head.

“…huh? You…what?”

“What, you suddenly going deaf or something?” Zoro pinches your cheek a little which makes you wince and pout, before giving him a glare that makes him smirk at you, “We should try a relationship, forget your parents and our original deal. I…I want to try being your boyfriend.”

You really didn’t expect this, you first thought, like you asked, that Zoro had changed his mind and decided he was done with your fake marriage, but instead, he actually wants to give the two of you a try. Wants to see if this might be something that really could last, not a temporary solution to your personal problems.

While you think it through for a moment, you barely register that Zoro is starting to look nervous, something you’ve never really seen before. Once you make up your mind, before he can say anything more, you lean up and kiss him, pulling away with a smile that Zoro returns.

“I’d love to give us a real try, Zoro.”

Everything is going to be okay, you’re sure of it.

+!+

Sanji and Nami can see a difference in your and Zoro’s relationship quickly after you leave Fishman Island. As you approach Punk Hazard, Zoro doesn’t really let you go, keeping you near to him even as you all draw straws and you end up being one of the group to stay on Sunny and keep watch. Neither of them say anything when he pulls you aside once again, but the smile you have while you talk to Zoro tells them both everything is fine, especially when you nod once more and hug him, which he returns to their surprise.

The two look at each with questioning glances, trying to see if you’ve said anything to the other, but both shrug. Truthfully there’s not been time to talk to either of them, and when the group Zoro’s a part of leaves, the two drag you to the kitchen and start asking questions, which causes you to laugh, but Nami doesn’t really think it’s funny.

“Come oooonnnn,” Nami leans against your arm, giving you a pout, “You guys are acting weird, you can’t tell us something isn’t going on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nami.”

The blush on your face starts to give you away, and Sanji figures it out, giving you a slight grin.

“Did he finally tell you he likes you back?”

“Mm…something like that.”

“Are you guys dating then?”

“Maybe~” You’re not very good at being coy, to the point Nami gasps and shouts that she knew it before hugging you tightly while you laugh and Sanji sighs, still smiling.

“About damn time. That stupid mosshead, taming two years to tell you anything.”

“Well, all he said was that he wants to try a relationship, so that’s what we’re doing.”

“So he’s your boyfriend!” The little squeal and giggle from Nami makes you join in. “Finally, I told you he liked you back!!”

“Yeah, yeah, you were right!”

Sanji is quiet while he watches the two of you for a few moments. He really does hope that you and Zoro are going to be okay one day, that he’ll stay your husband and neither of you has to deal with the divorce papers or anything like that. He doesn’t want to watch another couple in his life break down, even as you two are just starting out.

Well, minus your two and a half years of actually being married, even though it hasn’t been a real marriage yet. It still isn’t, as you explain after a bit, but your friends seem to get it. You still want things kept under wraps, until Nami brings something up.

“Yeah…umm…about that…”

You give her a confused look as Sanji sighs again.

“Luffy kind of told everyone that didn’t know. It was the day Franky was making comments about you and mosshead being in his bed.”

Groaning, you lean back in your seat before nodding.

“All right then…let’s keep me and Zoro dating between the four of us then?”

“A good idea.”

“At least we can keep a secret.”

#zoro x reader #roranoa zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever #fem!reader

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bobohu4eva · 2 days

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Hitched (M)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: arranged marriage au, acquaintances(?) to lovers, smut

Summary: Can great sex make an unwanted marriage less shitty? Yes. Yes it can.

Warnings: explicit unprotected sex, semi public (outdoor) sex, edging, Baekhyun has a Big Dick, alcohol consumption

WC: 9.8k apparently I don't know how to keep things brief anymore!

A/N: The majority of this is extremely self-indulgent smut. Oops? You're welcome? It is (mostly) pretty soft though.

Masterlist

“Smile!”

The cameras flashed, and you put on a show for your friends and family. Your new husband kissed you, and from the outside, everything seemed perfect.

The perfect dress, makeup, hair, a rich and handsome groom, and everyone you cared about right there with you, celebrating you and the man who was supposed to be the love of your life. It was a lavish ceremony and even more opulent reception, but you couldn't enjoy it at all.

There was nothing wrong with him, but you and Baekhyun had never even dated, and you definitely never pictured yourself marrying him. You didn't exactly have any reason to dislike him, you'd known him since you were a kid and he was undoubtedly an attractive guy, but marrying him had been your parents idea, not yours.

As a kid your family had everything you could've imagined, foreign sports cars, numerous vacation homes, a yacht, nannies, tutors, and the list goes on. Your parents' companies had been doing well, and life was easy.

But that didn't last forever. Now in your early 20’s, you watched as the fortune your family had built for generations was slipping away.

You were still a teenager when it started and couldn’t fully comprehend what had happened, but it seemed like some combination of bad investments and unpaid debts. Slowly the vacation homes, yacht, and cars were sold off one by one just to pay the bills. As the years passed it seemed that the walls were starting to close in, but on the surface your family, especially your mother, made sure it didn't seem that way.

The good family name was pretty much all that was left now, and your mother would do anything she could to keep it strong.

Growing up with generational wealth, your family always associated with others of similar standing, and one of the families you'd grown up with had been particularly close; the Byuns.

Their only son, Baekhyun, was someone you'd grown up around, but at seven years older than you, you hardly knew each other. He was the perfect rich kid, smart, handsome, and polite, but you still would've much preferred to marry someone you actually loved, or at least were close with.

“Y/n, you're doing it again.” He whispered in your ear, and you realized that your smile had once again fallen as you zoned out, and his mother was right there in front of you, looking concerned.

You perked back up, and saw her face flood with relief. You looked at Baekhyun, and he was still smiling for the pictures as well, but you noticed the slightly apologetic look he shot you.

You really did try to play the part, for the sake of your families, but it was hard. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life, but instead you were putting on an act, hiding how miserable you felt under the facade of it all.

The worst part was just how happy both his and your families were. Both moms cried, and even your dad teared up a little. You couldn't even blame them, either. It had been a beautiful ceremony, and you and him both looked the part so perfectly. It was everything a high society wedding should be, and on top of that, it was the only thing saving your family from bankruptcy.

Once pictures were done with it was time for the first dance- in a gazebo decorated with fairy lights and at least a thousand fresh white roses. All you could think was how incredible this would have been, if it was a real wedding, between two people who actually loved each other. Every beautiful thing was a cruel reminder of how you would never get to experience that for yourself.

Baekhyun did a better job than you, and if you hadn't been so depressed, you might've even gotten flustered a few times. He looked incredibly handsome in his tux, smiling sweetly at you as he led you through the dance, a painfully romantic song filling the spring air. He was the picture perfect groom.

You so badly wanted to hate him for agreeing to all of it, but knew it was more complicated than that. Despite not knowing him very well, you did know how close knit his family was. If his parents really wanted him to do this, he would have a tough time refusing.

You were closer with his parents than you had ever been with him, and they adored you. Despite not being related, you almost thought of them like your own aunt and uncle. Baekhyun, on the other hand, was like your mysterious older cousin. He always seemed preoccupied with his studies, or later, his job. You'd been around each other at holidays and various parties throughout the years, but he never felt approachable.

To act so romantically with him felt unbelievably strange. On top of your disappointment at the whole situation it was also just very awkward. The kissing and touching, the dancing, the “loving” looks you shared, they all made your chest feel tight. Baekhyun was obviously very handsome, but the nature behind all of it still got to you.

Before the wedding Baekhyun had asked you if you would rather not kiss or touch at all, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you'd assured him that it was fine. Aside from the parents and those closest to you both, most of the guests had no idea this wedding had been arranged just a few months earlier. If this was going to be believable, you had to make it look real.

Eventually the dancing ended and the reception began, relieved beyond belief to finally get to have a drink. The champagne made things much easier, and as distant friends and family asked you and your new husband about your love story, you lied with increasing confidence. Baekhyun, too, was leaning into the act more heavily after a few drinks. His arm around you and the way he looked at you made everyone oooh and ahhh, giving them the same story you'd told minutes earlier, about how the two of you realized one day that all of those years you'd been hiding your love for each other, and when you realized that the other felt the same, you couldn't marry quickly enough.

It was all bullshit of course, but they ate it up, and that was the important thing. You didn't want to think about how embarrassing it would be if an acquaintance or extended family member found out your parents had orchestrated everything.

Several times people gushed about how lucky the two of you were to have found each other. The bitterness you felt was so intense you hoped dearly that they couldn’t see right through your smile.

The relief you felt when the guests finally started to clear out, leaving the lavish ballroom for their hotel rooms, was monumental. Eventually the last of them were gone, and since both families insisted, you and Baekhyun retreated to your shared suite.

Both you and him knew that your families were hoping for a grand baby soon, but that wasn't something you could even consider at the moment.

“I don't mind sleeping on the couch.” He told you once you were alone with him.

As nice as the room was, it didn't make sense for him to sleep on the couch. The bed was huge, and the couches weren't long enough for him to fully lay down. You shook your head.

“Are you sure?”

You smiled a little at his sweetness, “There's plenty of space for both of us, don't worry about it.”

And so you and Baekhyun shared the bed on your first night together as husband and wife. You stayed on your side, and he stayed on his, not once touching, even a little.

It was expected that eventually you and him would buy a house together and live there, but in the meantime, you stayed at that suite together. His parents owned it, and they hoped that living together would help spark something real, not to mention sharing a bed.

Life after marriage wasn't that different, aside from your living space. You didn't have a job yet, having only graduated college a few months earlier, so you spent much of your time out with friends. As nice as the suite was, it reminded you of your loveless marriage, so you took every chance you could to get away. Baekhyun mostly just worked, keeping to himself, although he always asked you about your day when you’d get home. To his disappointment you kept your responses short. He wanted to try and get to know you better, but you didn't seem interested.

The truth was, every time you saw him and he tried to talk to you, it made you feel worse. He did absolutely nothing wrong, but he, like the suite, was a painful reminder of your unfortunate fate. The result was you essentially avoiding him, even in your shared space. Baekhyun, however, wasn’t willing to live that way.

A few weeks passed with hardly any words exchanged between you and him, so he decided to try something different. That evening when you returned to the suite, you were met with a generous dinner spread, the entire room meticulously decorated, and your husband sitting at the center of it all, looking at you bashfully in the candle light.

You were surprised, to say the least.

He noticed the way you froze up, getting up from the table and taking one hand, guiding you to the table. He pulled out your chair for you, leading you to sit.

Soon Baekhyun was seated across from you, looking back at you with a slightly unnerving intensity.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

He took a deep breath, “I want to try to make this work.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I can tell how much you hate being married to me, and I’m sorry. I think we should at least try to make the best of it, though.”

“Make the best of it?”

“Well, yes. I mean it could be worse, right? Am I really that bad?”

You sighed, annoyance taking hold at his nonchalant attitude. “No, Baekhyun, that's not the point, this whole situation just… sucks. Maybe it's stupid but I always thought I'd marry someone I was actually in love with, and it would be one of the best moments of my life. Instead I’m married to someone I barely even know.”

“I'm sorry, and I know how you feel, I really do. But don't you think we should at least try to get along?”

After a week of keeping your discontent to yourself, it came bubbling up and you no longer bothered to hide how you felt from him. You let it out, finally letting out what had been plaguing your mind since the wedding.

“Every time I see your face or even this suite for that matter, it makes me feel like shit. I really didn’t want this, and I don’t understand how you seem so unbothered. I mean, are you really not that upset about all this? Why did you agree to it so quickly?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice either, you know how my parents are. A couple years ago when I still wasn't in a serious relationship of any kind they started floating the idea of setting me up with someone. Your name got mentioned a lot, so I've had more time to come to terms with it, I suppose.”

You scoffed, “So you've known for years that this would happen?”

“Well, no. It was always just a suggestion, until a few months ago when they told me that they discussed it with your parents and actually wanted to go through with it.”

Not sure what else to say, you shifted your focus to the plate of food before you, and he did the same. An awkward silence filled the dining room, though you still preferred the silence to his rationalizing of your miserable arrangement. Much to your dismay, however, it wasn’t long until he was again doing just that.

“A lot of our parents' friends started out like this too, you know. To be fair most of them at least got to date for a while before getting married, but they’re happy now, so why shouldn’t we be able to do the same?”

He wasn’t wrong, this kind of thing wasn’t exactly rare, though you still hadn’t planned to turn out that way yourself. Still, you just stared back at him with a look of annoyance.

“What I really wanted to talk to you about, the reason I made this dinner for us, I thought maybe, if you would be interested, we could go on a honeymoon. I know that wasn't originally part of the plan, but I think it could be good for us. Anywhere you want to go, I'll make it happen.”

His offer was extremely generous, but still didn’t exactly sound appealing. Being alone with him for days on end wasn’t your idea of fun, you worried that it would even become quite depressing, not to mention awkward.

“I don't know….”

“It can be as long or short as you like, and if you decide you hate being around me that much you can come back here anytime. You're my wife now, and I want to be able to make you happy, to make this whole thing work out for us. If there's anything I can do to help us get there, I’ll do it, whatever it takes.”

When he put it like that, it was hard to argue with him.

“Anywhere I want? And you’ll really fly me back if I don’t like it?”

He nodded, “I promise.”

Though you still had your doubts, you reluctantly agreed. A couple days later you were packing your bags, flying first class to Switzerland, where you'd stay for two weeks at one of his family's vacation homes in the mountains near Lucerne.

Baekhyun grinned when you told him you wanted to go somewhere with mountains, “excellent choice.”

The flight had been surprisingly nice. You’d expected that Baekhyun’s family would fly first class, but you were still surprised by just how nice the Swiss airline he’d booked was. You and him essentially had an entire bedroom, and while it was spacious for a plane, that was the closest you’d ever been to him in bed before. Maybe it was just hormones and general touch depravity, but you were all too aware of the way he occasionally brushed up against you as he slept.

When you finally arrived at the house you'd call home for the next couple weeks, walking into the main living area, you understood his excitement at your choice to stay in the mountains. It was nothing short of breathtaking.

The house itself was beautiful, modern, and impeccably decorated, but you'd seen plenty of nice houses. It was the view that made it so special. The sprawling green valley surrounded by snow capped mountains looked like something out of a fairy tale.

“My wife has awesome taste.” He said, not missing the way you grimaced, cringing at the word ‘wife’.

“It still feels super weird hearing you say that.”

You kept your eyes fixated on the view, and after a moment he was taking your hand and leading you into the master bedroom. Inside on a small table stood a bottle of champagne as well as two glasses, and beyond the sliding glass doors you could see the patio, fit with a hot tub and infinity pool. The king sized bed stood at the center of the room, covered in rose petals.

You let out a short exhale of a laugh, mostly in disbelief at the sight in front of you.

“Not bad right?”

“Oh God, you really are trying to make me fall in love with you. Rose petals and everything…”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I don't think two weeks is long enough to fall in love, but if you did, that would be great. I guess the staff went a little crazy with the romance since my parents told them this is our honeymoon.”

He opened the bottle of champagne, pouring each of you a glass and handing one to you. God knows you needed it.

“Cheers.” You clinked the glasses together, each taking a sip. “By the way, I can sleep in one of the other bedrooms, if you'd prefer that. I know the rose petals on the bed are a little much.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, but it looked like he was blushing ever so slightly as he said it.

Your immediate reaction was relief, that you'd get your own room, but then again that wasn't why you'd traveled all this way together. You were used to sleeping in the same bed with him by now anyway, so you shook your head, hoping you wouldn’t end up regretting it.

A long sigh passed your lips.“You didn't take me here for us to sit in different rooms all day, we can do that back at home.”

There was a faint smile on his lips and he nodded, cheeks still a little pink. You both knew what your families were hoping would happen in that bed, and you couldn't help but blush a little as well. For a second you wondered if you and him would ever get that far. He was perfectly fuckable, in theory, but the nature of your arrangement sucked all the excitement out of it for you.

It was still early in the day, and once the champagne glasses were empty Baekhyun called a car to take the two of you into town.

“You already seem less bummed out than you've been the last few weeks.” He commented as you headed into the city.

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong, I’m still sad about everything, but you're right. It's better to at least try to make this work out. I'm trying to be optimistic.”

He was smiling again, and you couldn't deny how gorgeous the sight of it was. He reached for one of your hands, giving it a light squeeze, holding it for the rest of the car ride, and then again as you walked through the streets together, window shopping.

The city of Lucerne really was like a fairy tale. The old buildings, the crystal blue lake, and the mountains in the distance were the perfectly romantic setting for your time with him. In front of that amazing backdrop, he truly looked like a prince.

As sad and angry as you'd been the past month, now that your hand was in his, on this beautiful honeymoon, just enjoying the scenery, you couldn’t find the energy to harbor any resentment towards him. Although you still had a lot to learn about each other, you realized you could enjoy his company more than you expected. Either that, or it was just hard to be mad when you were in such a lovely place.

You'd been walking together in comfortable silence for a while, just appreciating the city, when he told you, “If you see something you like, tell me and we can go inside for you to try it on.”

As nice as it was, you knew you weren't actually going to go inside any of those shops. They were all high end designer outlets, the kinds of places you hadn't been to since your family was actually doing well.

Baekhyun saw the way you shook your head, turning your eyes to the pavement in front of you. You felt him abruptly stop, your hand still in his.

“What?”

“Now that we're married, you don't need to worry about all of that anymore. Your family wasn't so insistent on you marrying me just so that they could finally pay off their debts, you know. They want a better life for you, too.”

“Yeah well they have a funny way of showing it.” You mumbled, not even trying to hide the bitterness in your voice.

“Did you tell them you didn’t want to get married?”

You scoffed, because of course you didn’t, and he should know that. You gave him a bit of a bitchy side eye and he seemed to get your point.

“They know I would’ve much rather chosen my husband myself. But I wasn’t really given a choice, just like you.”

He mustered up a surprisingly sympathetic look, sitting you down with him on a nearby bench.

“I’m not saying this to call you ungrateful, really, but I think we should remember how lucky we are. Because of our parents we got the best educations, grew up in nice homes, get to travel the world, and so on. Money isn't something we'll ever have to worry about. When they asked me to marry you, I didn’t fight them, because I know how much they’ve done for me.”

You understood perfectly where he was coming from. However, despite it all, you still couldn't deny your disappointment.

“I know it would've been selfish to refuse, and of course I am grateful to be this fortunate. That doesn't make it feel any less shitty, though. I always had such big dreams for how I would meet the love of my life and get married, and they know that. When they told me I should marry you, they knew it would be heartbreaking for me, they just didn't seem to care. They didn't even want to acknowledge it.”

“I'm sorry. I can imagine how hard that would be, I want you to know that I don't blame you at all for being upset. I just want to do whatever I can now to hopefully make this better for you.”

When you didn’t respond his hand was pulling you back up with him, “Come on, there’s a really great ice cream place nearby.”

He was relieved to finally see you smile again, even though you rolled your eyes at him. “I’m not a little kid, you can’t manipulate me with ice cream.”

“I’m not manipulating you! I just want to cheer you up.”

At least the ice cream really was fantastic.

Eventually you returned to the house, deciding to finish the champagne in the pool together, enjoying the view. You'd seen Baekhyun shirtless in the past, but it had been years, and you couldn't deny how great he looked as he joined you in the water, holding both of your glasses of bubbly.

The mountain air was chilly on your upper half, and you sunk deeper into the warm water as he handed you your champagne. Steam rose from the water into the cold air creating a wispy fog, the sun barely peeking out from behind the mountains as it set.

You said cheers, clinking the glasses together, giving Baekhyun a funny look at how intently he insisted on making eye contact before bringing his glass up to meet yours.

“You know why Germans are so insistent on eye contact when cheersing right?” He asked before taking his first sip.

“No..?”

His eyes widened ever so slightly, surprised, to say the least.

“Oh… uhh, never mind.”

“No, tell me!”

This time, he was definitely blushing, “Ok but don't get mad at me! I was joking… I didn't think I'd have to explain it..”

“So..?”

He sighed, ready for you to scoff at his lame attempt at flirting with you. “In Germany, it's said that if you don't make eye contact while cheersing with someone, you'll have seven years of bad sex.”

To his surprise, you actually let out a small laugh, again meeting his eyes and holding his gaze intently as you clinked your glass to his one more time.

It had to be the atmosphere, both of you barely clothed in your swimsuits, the alcohol, the sunset, and the view of the mountains. That had to be it, that had to be why you were going along with everything he said so easily. Because at the end of the day, you both knew well what he was implying. He was your husband, and you his wife. Unless you both planned on cheating, which to your understanding still wasn’t acceptable despite the nature of the marriage, he would be the only one you'd be having sex with anytime soon.

You kept slowly sipping on your drink, enjoying the calmness and beauty of the landscape. This time, the silence between him and yourself actually felt comfortable.

“Do you really think that it's possible for us to eventually be happy, like any other married couple? You know as if we'd actually chosen this for ourselves?” You eventually asked.

“Yeah, I definitely think it's possible.”

“You really mean that?”

He shrugged, and nodded. “I don't want this to sound too forward, but that's part of why I wasn't too upset about the marriage. I would've liked to marry someone I chose myself, just like you, but in our situation I think we still have a good chance at making it work. Even though we've never been particularly close, I feel like I know you fairly well, because of our families. I know that we had similar upbringings, share the same basic values, things like that, and those things really matter in a partnership. You're beautiful too, which definitely helps.”

“Thank you… I've never really thought about it like that.”

‘You’re beautiful.’ Those words had a greater effect on you than you expected.

His eyes had been fixed on the sun setting over the mountains, but slowly he turned back towards you. “Do you find me attractive, at least physically?”

His sudden question left you dumbfounded. The answer was so obvious but the way he asked you truly didn't sound cocky at all. You had to stop yourself from making a dumb joke considering his abs were currently glistening in the light of the setting sun and his face looked like something out of a magazine.

“Baekhyun, you know you're a good looking guy.”

“Well, some women are more into big muscles, or really tall guys, or a more rugged “manly” look. I could still not be your type.”

You shook your head, feeling the way your cheeks burned, knowing they were probably bright red. You kept your eyes glued on the valley below, avoiding the way you knew he was looking at you. “You definitely are my type, at least when it comes to looks.”

You expected him to say something cocky and smug but instead he just smiled at you when you finally met his gaze again, seeming genuinely happy and relieved by your answer.

“I appreciate that.”

It occurred to you then that despite the champagne, his words and eyes on you made you quite shy. He was simply an extremely handsome guy, and you found yourself having to fight the urge to downright ogle him.

His broad shoulders and strong chest looked so inviting, the water on his skin adding a gorgeous sheen to his entire form. You wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against your own, and know how his slender hands would feel on your body.

The view of the mountains was nice, but as the minutes flew by, your eyes kept traveling back to him. It didn't go unnoticed, as he felt himself slipping into similar thoughts as well.

Maybe you really were just that easy to read, but it surprised you nonetheless when he stepped closer, taking your hand in his, before placing it on his chest.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Your eyes were stuck to his torso, heart beating rapidly at the knowledge of his eyes gazing down at you, his heartbeat under your hand a comforting reminder of the shared tension. His gentle touch on your chin triggered a small gasp, and he finally guided your face up towards his own where he could look at you, and you at him.

Being so close now, you noticed the scattered moles painting little constellations across his face. Each one appeared to have been placed with purpose, further adding to the near perfect harmony of his stunning features.

When his eyes shifted downwards ever so slightly, gaze falling to your lips, you stopped breathing. You could smell him, so sweet and inviting, every minute aspect of his presence pulling you in.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes bore into your own again, and you could feel the magnetism between you both. All you gave him was a small nod, but that was enough, his lips meeting yours.

This was so different, so much better than when you'd kissed before at your wedding. His chest under your palm felt warm and firm, the taste and smell of him surrounding you, easily letting you melt into him. His lips were soft, and the lack of clothing, the feel of his wet skin against your own, made you shiver despite the hot pool.

Growing increasingly overwhelmed, you pulled away, red faced and genuinely a little embarrassed to have given into him so quickly. You quickly grabbed your glass and downed the rest of your champagne.

Baekhyun, however, saw right through you. He gave you a knowing smirk, he knew you were still skeptical of him and the marriage, but that didn't mean you weren't attracted to each other. Being half naked in a pool with a view definitely helped set the mood, too.

“What? There's no reason to get shy now.”

Still, you turned away from him, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool as you fixed your eyes back onto the mountains and valley below.

“Hm? What's wrong?”

His breath on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine, surprised by the proximity. Gently, he brushed your hair aside, giving himself access to whisper in your ear.

“As odd as it might feel to be married, as husband and wife, there's no use in denying that we're attracted to each other.”

He didn't miss the way you whimpered when his lips gently grazed the sensitive skin just below your ear, turning your head to grant him more access.

He took that as his sign to continue, leaving a trail of kisses along the side of your neck, his lips growing bolder as the minutes passed. Soon he was sucking and biting at the spot on your neck that made your knees weak, and his hands slowly came to rest on your hips, leaving you every chance to stop him, but you did no such thing.

Maybe it was just how pent up you were after not having sex for so long, and barely even having an opportunity to touch yourself, but you found yourself squeezing your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache that was starting to form between them.

When one of his hands left your hip, instead coming to your jaw, turning your head to grant him access to kiss you again, you easily let him. The kiss was nothing sweet, desperate and hungry as you both fought for dominance, though Baekhyun quickly took the upper hand, not that you minded.

“Can I touch you?” He asked the second your lips parted.

“You are touching me.”

“That's not what I mean.”

His hand moved slowly down the front of your body, the soft touch making your head spin, until his delicate fingers began to play with the waistband of your bikini.

He resumed the movement of his lips on your neck, soon coming to whisper in your ear, “May I?”

You nodded, breath shaking, and let out a soft moan when his fingers finally pushed beneath the wet fabric. His first touch against your clit sent a jolt through you, and you didn't miss his soft chuckle before pressing his lips against you for the nth time.

The way he nibbled and sucked at the skin of your neck combined with the soft circles his fingers made on your clit, were nothing short or euphoric. You leaned back into his chest, quiet moans and whimpers filling the air. Being touched like this from behind had always been a big turn on for you. He already made you feel so weak under his touch.

Baekhyun was obsessed with all of the delicate sounds escaping your lips, sounds that proved how much you were enjoying what he did to you. The more he listened, the more he felt himself grow needy for more.

A breath got stuck in your throat when he pushed his hips forward, letting you feel his hardness against your ass. Even through his swim trunks, you could tell he was big.

With his cock pressed to your ass and his fingers moving perfectly between your thighs, you were already losing any rationality you’d once possessed. When his other hand untied the knot of your top and began to tease your nipples, you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about how exposed you were, outside in the open. You knew you would be pushed over the edge sooner rather than later if he kept it up, and he did.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” He whispered in your ear, the smirk on his lips apparent in his voice.

You nodded frantically, warmth bubbling up inside you, turning into a searing heat.

“Good girl, let go, I got you.”

His fingertips slipped across your clit just right, one hand pinching and twisting the sensitive nub on your chest. Your whimpers grew into delighted moans, the craving for even more growing almost unbearable. The promise of eventually having his length inside you was what pushed you over the edge, shaking and twitching in Baekhyun's arms as you fell.

“Fuck.” He whispered into the crook of your neck. “You're really sexy, you know that? Can't wait to be inside you.”

The combination of his words and breath against your heated skin prolonged your pleasure, nodding to show him just how badly you wanted him, too.

As soon as his hand withdrew from between your legs you turned towards him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss. It was messy, desperate, communicating the urgent need you both felt for more. His tongue greedily licked into your mouth before biting your lip, coaxing another weak moan from you. His hand on your thigh quickly had you wrapping both around him, and the feel of his substantial length and girth against your center, even through your bathing suits, left you panting, desperate for more.

He put some pressure on you, pushing you against the edge of the pool, letting you feel even more of him.

“Do you wanna go inside?” He whispered into your ear between kisses, but you didn't have the patience for that.

You shook your head, “just fuck me right here.”

His cocky smirk somehow had even more moisture flowing out of you, “as you wish.”

With that, he undid the string of your bikini, and pushed down his shorts.

You reached for him, intimidated by the size, hoping you would even be able to handle him. He was hot and hard in your hand, and you felt the telltale throb of his own arousal.

Anticipation hung thick in the air as he positioned himself, his tip nudging against your clit, and you swore you were about to lose your goddamn mind.

“You ready?” He questioned with an unexpected softness, forehead resting against your own.

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Baekhyun, please.”

As soon as he pushed forward, however, you understood his desire to double check. His size presented quite the challenge, your eyes squeezing shut at the discomfort of being stretched so much. He could sense how you struggled to take him, hands digging into the skin of his back, legs squeezing involuntarily around his hips.

“Fuck you're so big.”

“Just relax, I'll go slow. Tell me if it’s too much.” He said before pressing another kiss to your lips.

You couldn't remember ever feeling so full, and he was still only halfway in. Slow, shallow thrusts carefully let you get used to him, going deeper with every roll of his hips. Soon tears pricked at your eyes, the new sensation of being fucked by such a huge cock leaving you awstruck.

When he finally fit himself all the way inside of you, his hips meeting your own, you felt his head pressing firmly against your cervix. The slight pain of it heightened the already intense moment even further.

“Oh my God.”

He pulled almost all the way out, sinking himself all the way back inside, and you swore he had to have the best cock you’d ever fucked, by a mile. Any unpleasant thoughts surrounding your marriage to him were long gone as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust pulling gasps of pleasure from you.

The water splashed wildly around you but you might as well have forgotten it was even there, too overcome with Baekhyun’s length as it pleased you in ways you never knew possible. The way he filled you so completely was unlike anything you’d experienced with another man, blissed out by his incredible size and precise thrusts.

“You’re so perfect, take me so fucking well.”

His lips crashed into yours, hot and greedy as you moaned into one another. You were certain you’d never felt anyone that deep inside you before, and it was addictive.

“Think you can handle more?” He muttered, now that you’d gotten fully acclimated to his substantial length and girth.

You nodded, greedy for anything and everything he could give, and Baekhyun wasn’t going to deny you.

His lips swallowed more moans and cries of delight as he picked up the pace, thrusting harder, faster, feeling you clench down on him as you got closer to your release.

Every time he sunk into you completely, he felt your body tremble in response to the intense sensations. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes open to look at him, you simply couldn't. The force with which he pounded you and how deep he reached left you an incoherent mess. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate whimpers and whines leaving your parted lips.

“Will my beautiful wife let me feel her cum on my cock? Hm?”

Frantically, you nodded. With only a few more pumps into your dripping core he made you cum, so hard that you just about forgot your own name.

Baekhyun let out a deep groan at how tightly you squeezed him when you came, the pulsating of your orgasming pussy bringing him to his peak soon after. His hips fell out of pace, eventually slowing to a stop as he emptied his cum deep inside.

It wasn't until you slowly started drifting back to reality that you realized you were still outside in the pool with him.

You continued to cling to him, feeling him gradually soften and slip out of you. When his eyes found your own you both stared, panting, basking in the afterglow.

You finally stood back on your own two feet, leaned back against the edge of the pool, and couldn’t fight the fit of laughter that came over you.

Baekhyun stared at you, confused, unnerved, and slightly bewildered at your sudden outburst.

“Jesus fucking Christ Byun! That might be the best sex I’ve ever had. No, it definitely was. I can’t believe you...”

A relieved sigh escaped him, grinning at your admission. “Go on. I’d love to hear all your thoughts.”

“Oh shut up you don’t need any more ego stroking with a dick like that.”

He leaned in closer, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool at your sides. “Well you’ll be happy to know that this dick is all yours, till death do us part.”

A genuine smile graced your lips, and this time as you looked at him, your new husband, you actually felt a little excited for what your future with him could hold.

You leaned in, giving him a quick kiss. “It's only day one and you already succeeded at seducing me. I have to admit I feel a little pathetic.”

“I didn’t seduce you.”

“Oh yes you did! You got me half naked and drunk and started kissing my neck. That has to count.”

“You only had one glass of champagne and we're in a pool, what else would we wear?!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay fine, but you still seduced me. Not that I mind, that was fucking incredible. I hope no one saw us, though.”

Baekhyun just shrugged. “I doubt it, but if they did, we put on a pretty good show.” he smirked.

“You’re unbelievable.” You laughed, enjoying the way he admired you.

“I asked if you wanted to go inside, but someone was too impatient.”

“You’re awful cocky, you know that?”

Again, he shrugged, moving away from you to find his glass of champagne. He finished it, and since it was getting late, you both finally decided to get to bed. This time, the rose petals just made you giggle. Once you'd both settled in, you even found yourself inching closer to him, until one of his arms pulled you closer, wrapping around you. It was easy to fall asleep like that, in his embrace.

The first night in a new bed was usually pretty rough, and the jet lag didn’t help. When you awoke in the early morning, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep.

Baekhyun had detached himself from you at some point during the night, the blanket bunching up around his waist. He seemed to still be resting peacefully, and you shamelessly enjoyed the view of his bare chest and sleeping face. Everything about him was just so gorgeous, it didn’t really make sense to you how you’d ended up with him like this. You’d been so pissed about the marriage for so long, but now a small smile crept to your lips as you watched him, his chest slowly rising and falling with every breath.

You turned to fully face him, shifting around for a bit before settling into a comfortable position. From that point of view you could enjoy the profile of his face as he slept, taken with the seemingly perfect outlines of his jaw, nose, and lips.

Minutes passed, dragging on painfully slow, and the sight in front of you definitely didn't help you get back to sleep. Images from your time in the pool with him kept resurfacing, along with the memory of how incredible he'd made you feel. You couldn’t understand how you hadn’t always wanted to touch him, even when he was more of a stranger to you. He was way too attractive to just ignore, you thought. Every cell in your body seemed to gravitate towards him, now that touching him was allowed, and even welcomed, holding yourself back was nearly torturous.

You and him could nap during the day. Right now, you needed him to wake up.

Carefully, you moved closer, molding your body to his, leaning in to press your lips to his neck. He stirred a bit, but didn’t wake up, so you went on to plant more kisses, moving down towards his chest. When you gently sucked on his collarbone, his eyes finally fluttered open.

Much to your delight, he didn’t question your actions, or why you’d woken him up. He just took hold of your waist, pulling you on top of him, and into a kiss. You ended up straddling him, lips still locked as they moved together lazily.

“Goodmorning,” He hummed, looking around at the dark bedroom. “Awake already? What time is it?”

“Four? Five? I don't know.”

“Why'd you wake me up?” He half groaned, half whined, voice rough due to the early hour.

Instead of replying, you just kissed him again, kissing down to his jaw, then neck, moving your hips a little to make your intentions clear.

“Ready for round two? Already?”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled, “Why don't you make me?”

You moved to bring your lips to his once more, but he stopped you, one finger pressing to your lips before they could make contact. You pouted.

“I have an even better idea.”

“Oh yeah?”

A mischievous grin lifted his cheeks so prettily.

“Sit on my face.”

You froze, “Huh?”

“You heard me. C’mere”

He hoisted you up, eliciting a small shriek from you, but you didn’t let him take you all the way up the bed, instead settling atop in chest.

“Are you serious?”

“Hmm I’m a hungry boy. Now come here.”

His hands on your ass attempted to push you further up towards his face, but you stayed put.

“I still have underwear on, dummy.”

He looked down, narrowing his eyes when he spotted the lace that was, in fact, covering you.

“Do you like this pair?”

“Kinda? They’re a little old I guess, why do you-”

Before you could finish his hands were taking hold of the flimsy fabric, easily ripping it and tossing it to the side.

“Baekhyun! Are you out of your mind? Why-”

He cut you off again, hoisting you up by your ass till your thighs were on either side of his head.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll buy you new ones.”

With that his arms circled your thighs, pulling you down, until your center met his hot tongue.

You inhaled sharply, bracing your hands against the wall as he licked and prodded at your clit. It was soft, teasing, wanting to warm you up before showing you what he was really capable of. When you would start to whine and plead for more, he would pull away entirely, instead leaving kisses on your inner thighs, letting the anticipation grow until it was nearly unbearable.

Until then you'd still been hovering, not wanting to smother him, but when you once again began to whimper and ask for more, he told you, “I’ll give you what you want if you just sit.”

“But-”

Without giving you a chance to protest his strong arms, still wrapped around your thighs, yanked you down roughly. At last you got the kind of pressure you needed, putting some weight on him, no longer caring if he could breathe or not. His hums of pleasure made it clear that either way, he was enjoying this as much as you were.

He lapped at your clit with greed, happily drinking you in. Every gasp, sigh, and groan he drew from you egged him on, eagerly awaiting your release, wanting nothing more than the taste of your delight flooding his tongue. When he transitioned from mere licking to sucking your bud past his lips, he felt your thighs shake, gripping them so tightly you almost wondered if it could bruise. In your ecstasy, however, there was no place for such thoughts. You were too preoccupied with your building orgasm.

His fingers earlier in the pool had been fantastic, but his tongue and lips were on a whole new level entirely. The way the warm muscle flicked at your most sensitive spot was absolutely perfect, and when combined with the suction of his lips, you almost couldn’t handle it. He could tell you were getting close when you began to rock your hips against his tongue, silently begging for even more, and he was eager to deliver.

He picked up the pace, suckling harder, licking faster, and he reveled in the increased volume of your moans as you got lost in it. When the moans were silenced, replaced instead with sharp gasps, he knew you were on the precipice. He didn’t falter, if anything, he gave you even more.

Seconds later you fell apart, twitching and shaking while he still didn’t stop, the sensation flooding your body with relief and joy until it slowly became too much. Baekhyun still had a firm hold of your thighs, and he moaned with delight at the taste of your orgasm on his tongue. He kept lapping at your tired pussy, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste, until you basically begged him for a break.

When his hold on your thighs finally weakened, you sat back, your ass landing on his chest eliciting a grunt from him. You looked down at your husband's face and he was beaming, lips and chin still wet with your arousal. You grinned right back, watching as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Again, all you could do was laugh, and this time he happily joined you.

“You know, I really hadn't expected all of this to happen on our first night here.” You told him.

“Neither did I.”

He was still smiling up at you, now just watching, admiring you, and when he still didn't look away after several seconds had passed you started to feel shy.

You rolled off of him, one arm covering your eyes as you basked in the unexpected comfort of the moment. Eventually you felt him move your arm away and his face was hovering above your own, slowly moving closer until he was kissing you. It was slow, relaxed, just enjoying the closeness as you gradually recovered from the heated moment.

You felt him shift, realizing that he was adjusting himself beneath his silk pajama pants, and your hand followed. His eyes fluttered shut when you palmed him, and he took the hint, discarding the shirt you still wore before stripping himself.

Wet lips met the sensitive skin of your neck as he positioned himself between your thighs, the heat and weight of him above you somehow making your heart race even more. His fingers entered you first, stretching you out to get you ready to take him. He started with two, soon adding a third as he leaned up slightly, watching your flushed form squirm and whimper beneath him. It was a sight that didn’t help his patience one bit, throbbing as he thought about getting to be inside you again so soon.

It wasn’t long until Baekhyun assumed you were ready, that or he just didn’t want to wait any longer. Both of his hands found yours, lacing them together and pressing them to the bed above your head. His eyes were on yours, dark with lust as you felt him push inside, the stretch again making you wince, though you easily powered through, too enticed by what was to come to even consider stopping him. He rocked into you, getting deeper with each push, until he was burying himself into you entirely with each roll of his hips.

This time, he was slower, savoring the way your tight walls hugged him, in contrast to the frenzied passion of the evening prior. You sighed gratefully each time he hit that spot inside you, appreciating the unhurried pace he set as he continued to thrust. Your previous orgasm left you especially sensitive, and you seemed to be floating on a cloud of pure bliss while he steadily fucked you, the euphoria of it reaching even greater hights than before.

His size was one thing, but Baekhyun was also just good. He knew how to angle himself to make you feel just right, keeping a steady pace to allow the pleasure to build.

“You feel amazing, so tight and wet for me.” He whispered into your ear, and your knuckles paled with how hard you gripped his hands.

Normally faster, rougher sex was what you preferred, but now, with him, you couldn’t help but think that this slower, more relaxed approach was even better. Maybe it was because it was so early, and you were still a little tired, but this felt nothing short of perfect. Baekhyun was taking care of you so well, listening to your body, and giving exactly what you needed.

Your orgasm was getting close again, warmth growing into a burning heat in the pit of your stomach, but as soon as you started to clench around him, about to let go, he pulled out.

He chuckled softly at the way you whined in protest, but assured you, “Just trust me, this will be even better.”

He stood on his knees and straddled one of your thighs, bringing the other leg over his shoulder before pushing back in. With the same leisurely pace from earlier he continued on, the new angle making you feel him even deeper.

When you started to whimper and ask for him to go faster, he just shushed you, pushing his hips into you slower, but harder, leaving you with little room to protest. Either way, it was divine, and you knew he’d easily get you there in the end. After a while you decide that whatever he had in mind, you would happily accept it. He made you feel so damn good, you trusted him to take you however he saw fit.

His thrusts were steady, letting you chase your orgasm, but when you started to get close he pulled out again, leaving you shaking and whining and clenching around nothing.

One hand came to rest on your cheek and his forehead met your own, prompting you to open your eyes and meet his. He stared for a second before pressing a quick kiss to your lips and whispering, “Turn around for me baby.”

You obliged, rolling onto your stomach, and you felt him straddle you, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses along your shoulder. Without any warning he filled you once again, and this time when he bottomed out, the increased pressure against your cervix made your stomach tighten, the pain almost too much for you.

His moans and grunts made it clear that he, too, felt the added pressure, making sure not to press too hard, to be gentle as he continued working his way in and out, his eyes fixed to the view of your ass and his length plunging in and out of you. Every time he sank himself inside completely he felt the way his tip would reach the bottom, savoring the feeling while doing his best to not hurt you in any real way.

Little did he know, you enjoyed the intensity of it, and your high was approaching even quicker than before. He’d been edging you for so long, all you cared about was getting your release. He could’ve fucked you as fast and hard as he wanted and the pain still wouldn’t have stopped you from cumming all over his length.

But Baekhyun was cautious nonetheless, filling you in the same relaxed manner, wanting you to feel as good as possible, to prolong your pleasure, without bringing it to an end just yet. He, too, was enjoying himself far too much to rush this.

However he soon felt the same tell-tale throb that your orgasm was quickly approaching, so he pulled out once again.

Once he’d turned you over, settling back between your thighs, he took in your fucked out expression, eyes softening at just how desperate you looked.

“Does my baby want to cum?”

You nodded, frantic. “Please, Baekhyun.”

He placed a tender kiss to your lips, then your forehead, before pushing forwards to fill you up. This time as he kept moving you could feel the difference, and you knew he was getting close to his own release. His thrusts were less consistent, and he became shaky, gasping and moaning more freely than before.

For you it came as a relief, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until you finally got your long awaited high. You weren’t sure how much more you could take, more than ready for him to finally just fuck you through your orgasm, and let you feel his release, too.

The push and stretch of his length inside you, the angle of it, and his entirety surrounding you, the heat and weight and smell of him, they all became too much. When he finally let you reach your peak it was strong, blinding you and making your skin tingle with the intensity. Every time he’d denied you he’d built the tension to such a degree that when it was finally released, it was otherworldly. Broken versions of his name passed your lips, though you weren’t conscious of it, the wave of pleasure leaving no room for coherent thought, only gratitude for the incredible feeling after having been deprived.

He didn’t stop when he felt the obvious pulsating and twitching of your orgasm, he continued to chase his own high, which came soon after. He’d been holding himself back, so when it finally hit him, the burst of euphoria was explosive. As he shuddered apart his lips crashed into yours, hungry and rough as they sought greater contact, something to communicate how much it affected him.

The kisses became more relaxed as you both slowly drifted back to reality, until he finally collapsed on top of you, burying himself in the crook of your neck. Gently kisses were peppered across your skin, each one paired with some sweet words, “So beautiful, so perfect, so good for me.”

After some time his weight above you lost its charm, turning sweaty and uncomfortable prompting him to roll off you, though you still desired some contact. Your head rested atop his chest, and the feeling of his hand on your waist was a welcome comfort.

Something about this just felt right to you. Your marriage to him, now, came as more of a relief than anything else. You knew that after having him, nobody else would ever be able to compare. As sure as you’d been that the jet lag would keep you up until daylight, his embrace ended up luring you into a peaceful sleep in mere minutes.

As it turned out, your honeymoon ended up being a beautiful experience full of gorgeous scenery, plentiful laughter, and amazing sex. Most days were spent strolling through town, enjoying the spa and pool at the house, and in bed with your new husband.

He was fun, maybe a little cocky, but you couldn't blame him for that, everything considered. At the end of the day, he was always sweet to you, and never acted truly arrogant in any way. Confident, that was how you would describe him, and that confidence came as a comfort for you. He was confident in himself, yes, but he also showed a lot of confidence and optimism towards his relationship with you.

The initial awkwardness disappeared completely after your encounter in the pool. The sex had been great, but more importantly, it brought your guard down. You quickly became far more comfortable around him, and as the days passed, he started to feel like a genuine friend. A friend, who also gave you the best sex of your life.

While it may have still been early in the relationship, by the time you were flying back home with him, you felt confident, too.

You'd make it work with Baekhyun, your new husband.

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #exo smut #exo fic #baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #kpop smut

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coupstatu · 12 hours

Text

step 1, taking the first step. newly wedded.

tldr. (or the summary) jihoon gets congratulated by his friends after being newly (arranged) married.

word count. 432.

the way they are written do not represent how they actually are, everything is fictional.

00. list of steps. other works.

the moment jihoon met up with his 12 friends, they figuratively pounced onto him as he stepped into the private dining room that one of them booked - he wasn't sure who, the messages in the groupchat went extra quick today.

"congratulations! the first one to get married out of us." soonyoung slung an arm around jihoon's broad shoulders. putting his face close to jihoon's as he drags him over to the table. "we were waiting so long for the newly wedded man to come celebrate."

lightly moving soonyoung's arm off his shoulders, he settled down on his seat before opening his mouth to answer the plethora of questions and congratulatory words thrown at him.

"it's just marriage," jihoon mutters. "plus, it's arranged between our families since our parents are business partners or something."

mingyu leans into jun's side and whispers into his ear as discreetly as possible, "you don't think he's happy about this, do you?"

after multiple rounds of dinner, and multiple rounds of trying to fidget discreetly, jihoon eventually excuses himself for some fresh air.

he sits on a bench near the restaurant's entrance, relieved to have a little bit of quiet after hours of their chaos. leaning back onto the bench and relaxing on the bench.

"jihoon-ah," jeonghan steps out from the entrance and sits beside him, leaving just a little bit of space between them so it's not stuffy. "what's on your mind?"

opening his eyes, he looked up at the night sky and let out an exhale. "we're married, but through circumstances that most people wouldn't understand." he slowly sits up into a healthier posture (for his back).

"we don't know each other well, prior to marriage." clasping his hands together on top of his knees, he supports his upper body's weight with his hands. "we don't love each other, nor do we know what the future holds."

"well, are you willing to make an effort to get to know your wife and love her?" his head snaps to the direction of jeonghan's voice in confusion, jeonghan was crossing his leg over the other, and leaning back onto the backrest of the bench with his arms over it.

jihoon hesitated to reply, doing his best to form a coherent response to the question from whatever jumbled thoughts he had in his mind. "i-" he paused, pursing his lips out. "i think i'm willing to try, to make an effort."

he sees jeonghan turning back to him and looking in his eyes, "then, just focus on the present and get to know her. the future doesn't matter now."

psps! hope you enjoyed the prologue, this love advice twitter will show up on each (hopefully) chapter so maybe these are sneak peeks to the new chapters...

pic credits

taglist: @winterwallacehenderson

#seventeen x reader #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #svt #lee jihoon #jihoon x reader #woozi #woozi x reader

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plentyoffandoms · 2 days

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/plentyoffandoms/751377037239975936/hi-hope-you-are-well-are-your-requests-open?source=share

I'm good thanks.

That's awesome to hear.

Can I request for Lord Alfred Debling. Please and thank you.

He finds a wife who is just as obsessed about astrology as he is about nature, which she also received ridicule for. The marriage was arranged but they bond over they're interests. She travels with him since she can use the stars to navigate. They eventually settle at his estate once she gets pregnant. They have the cutest litter of children running around. And they're just the sweetest family. The kids names are even themed to their interests.

Our Family

Lord Debling x f/Reader

Main Masterlist ♡ Bridgerton Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs and photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @didanagy

Warnings. None

Requested by anonymous. I hope you like it, and such a cute idea

WC: 836

My wife and I were strolling in our garden, with our children running around. It was getting late in the evening, and it was the perfect time to look up into the night sky.

Our children were very excited as the night sky had no clouds and they could see the stars. They are also excited as the summer flowers are starting to bloom, and many bugs are starting to come out due to the warmer weather coming on.

My wife and oldest daughter, Ivy, were discussing their latest book they had read, and I was keeping an eye on the younger children, but their oldest brother, who is Ivy's twin, Berry was keeping them from wondering off.

When I first met my darling wife all those years ago, I was not happy. My parents and her parents got together and arranged our marriage.

Her and I are considered odd in our society as my love of nature and her love of astrology. Most people could not wrap their heads around it.

Our parents were concerned that my way of life at the time was no means for a lady. I was leaving after the wedding and her staying at our estate, but not her.

She joined me on my adventures, getting to know the real me, and I got to know her. I showed her the beauty in our world, and she showed me the beauty of our vast sky.

The first few days into my trip, I became concerned that we were getting lost, but she showed me how to navigate with the stars.

I truly became memorised by her, and I slowly fell in love with the woman my parents arranged for me to marry.

Once she became pregnant, I decided that it was time for us to settle at our estate and start to make a home worthy of our children.

Archer and Basil ran past me, laughing, bringing me out of my memories.

"Now boys, please watch where you are going." I said to them, not wanting to ruin their fun, but for then not to get hurt or hurt one of their siblings.

"Yes, father." They muttered before running off, playing some game of tag that is only between the two of them.

I helped my wife up the hill, as she was once again pregnant, but our sweet little Cordelia came rushing down the hill, wanting to help her mother up the hill.

Cordelia is the youngest at four years of age and is excited to be a big sister.

My wife sat down on the bench I had placed here not long after we came home.

"Now, you all know the rules. No fighting, no shoving, no yelling. We all get a turn." I didn't like to impose 6 many ruled on my children as our society does that already, but after the first time we did this, and the telescope got broken, their mother and I knew that some rules had to be put in place.

I stood next to the telescope as our children, from oldest to youngest, looked up into the night sky, completely in awe.

Ivy, Berry, Aurora, Archer, Basil, our other set of twins, Willow, Jupiter, Celeste, and Cordelia all took their turns, then rushed to their mother's side, asking her questions.

"Now, now, my darling children, it is your mother's turn." I said as they parter for me to get to her, to help stand her up from the bench.

"Take your time, dear. We have all night." She gave me a soft smile and leaned into look into the telescope. Our children ran off to play the scavenger hunt game I made for them before we came out here.

They had to find a certain bug or plant and cross it off their list. I even drew pictures next to what they need to be looking for.

Once, I knew the children were occupied, safe, and having fun, which I could tell by the squeals of laughter coming from around our garden, I wrapped my arms around her waist and placed my head on her shoulder.

"Oh, Alfred, it is just beautiful." She said as she straightened and leaned back into my arms.

"Not as beautiful as you, my beautiful wife."

"You shush now, husband. You are going to make me become vain with all your praises." Her and I laughed at that.

I turned her around in my arms so we were facing one another, I kissed her while placing my hand on her stomach, her and I was giggling at feeling our newest one kicking.

"Oh gross, they are kissing again." I heard Archer say before running off.

"How about when we are done here, and they are put to bed, you and I have some fun our bedroom."

"It's like you are trying to get me pregnant, even though I am already pregnant." She teased.

"We make lovely children." I told her.

"That we do Alfred, that we do."

Tag list: @madhatterbri

#reader imagine #reader insert #female reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton #lord debling imagine #lord debling fanfiction #lord debling x reader #lord debling x you #lord Debling x y/n #lord Debling x female reader #lord Debling x f/Reader #lord Debling

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diviinc · 8 months

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because you liked this post /@temptedfates

✧˖° ' who cares? love is overrated anyway.. ' ( bonus 4x !! )

#so hear me out #his parents have an arranged marriage about him #and hes highly against it he wants to find true love but #hes kinda giving up #so could be about that??#threads.aish #temptedfates

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libartz · 1 year

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“So. That was marriage.”

“Indeed it was.”

“What do we do now?”

“I suppose we, uh…consummate the union.”

“Aren’t I supposed to buy you dinner first? Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing. But you probably know that by now.”

“Honestly, me either.”

“Really? But you’re so put-together!”

“I was the third son. I was never meant to take the throne.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I mean, it’s not a relief, it’s terrible that your entire family was murdered, I just thought I was going to be fumbling around while you handled all the important stuff-“

“Hey. We’ll get through this together. Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”

#sebalistair #I love themmmm #gotta be one of my favourite rarepairs #I find arranged marriage trope ick when they hate each other #but they’d get on great #they’ve met before now but only like twice #also they’d probably have arranged it themselves being the kings and all #alistair x sebastian #sebastian vael x alistair theirin #sebastian vael #alistair theirin #Seb would know some stuff about how to king #but not as much as the other royals #his parents probably wouldn’t have bothered to teach him

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arcxnumvitae · 1 year

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The ways in which so many of the gentry are rebellious in their own ways, and yet in the end still come around to obeying their parents’ wishes because they feel they have to, oh the metas I could write

#it wasn't even intentional on my part and it's driving me /insane/#Ruaidhri talking so much about how he did whatever he wanted during his life but throwing away a chance of happiness with someone he loves #because he feels like there's /no escape/ from living out the plan his father made from him #Eilidh already being considered an odd one and 'weirdo' yet still going into an arranged marriage because it's just what she Had To Do #(although she broke the mold the most by running away anyways later)#and then Iomhar literally not even having any /living/ parents to force or nag him #Quite literally no one who can make him do it #and yet he doesn't even think twice about 'well of course I'll have to get married some day'#:outofcash

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dimiclaudeblaigan · 1 year

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not me thinking about how just bc i can’t write for rodrigue week, bc first i had covid and then i had a biopsy and now i have to wait for my elbow/arm to heal,

doesn’t mean i can’t just integrate something for him into miklan weekend

#DCB Comments #by which i mean. miklan and roddydad interacting #bc let me tell you. glenn and miklan? boyfriends. or at least well the closest thing to boyfriends outside of glenn being engaged #BUT LISTEN! LISTEN TO ME! miklan was causing trouble in houses in fraldarius territory! fraldarius territory!!#what if miklan was always you know bleh crests stupid inheritance ima be a baddie and that'll teach 'em -puts on sunglasses-#BUT THEN LIKE. after glenn died he just kinda. lost it. and got worse. and it was like. the one good thing in his life was gone #so he stopped holding back and wanted revenge on the world for treating him like trash ever since sylvain was born #one day rodrigue wants to talk to him. maybe it happens when he's causing bullshit in roddy's territory!#but he remembers! he does! he remembers miklan with glenn and how he used to actually be normal with him! smile around him!#how he wasn't a bandit around glenn! don't think he doesn't remember!!#roddydad well he knows miklan was angry bc he could never be with glenn bc of the arranged marriage with ingrid #and mikky knew ingrid and glenn loved each other even if him and glenn were kinda a thing #but!!! roddydad is DAD! he KNOWS when something's up! he saw mikky as his son in law just like ingrid was his daughter in law!#just like he sees sylvain as his son in love bc of fefe (just bc they're not together yet doesn't mean he doesn't see it he's no fool!)!!!#mikky is just as much family to him as everyone else!!! glenn cared about him!!! he knew mikky a lil bit as well!#he knows it's bc of old customs that mikky has suffered and bc matthias is a grumpy lil butt!#he's tried many times to get matthias to be a better parent bc he loves his best friend and wants him to have a happy family!!!#but matthias just... isn't mattydaddy!!! he's just matthias!!! he's not much of a dad dude you know???#so roddydaddy will be like a father in his place if that's what it takes to get mikky a better life!!!#I'M TELLING YOU WHAT IF RODRIGUE WAS THE ONE TO SAVE MIKKY IN HOUSES AND GIVE HIM A PROPER HOME #I'M TELLING YOU THAT WHAT IF SOMEONE FINALLY STEPPED UP TO RIGHT THE WRONGS OF THE PAST CUSTOMS #AND GIVE MIKLAN A /PLACE/ BC RODDY KNOWS THIS IS ALL WRONG AND NOBODY SHOULD HAVE TO FEEL THAT WAY #NOBODY SHOULD HAVE TO LIVE LIKE THIS. RODDY HE KNOWS THAT. SO HE'LL GIVE MIKKY THAT CHANCE #BUT MIKKY HAS TO PROMISE HE'LL BE GOOD! BEHAVE! HE CAN'T HURT FELIX OR SYLVAIN! IF HE DOES HE'S IN BIG BIG BIG DOODOO!#HE'S ALREADY HURT SYLVAIN AND RLY THAT /IS/ MATTHIAS' RESPONSIBILITY TO HANDLE. BUT FELIX?#OH IF HE HURTS RODDY'S SON HIS SON MY SON FELIX RODDYDADDY'S SON HE'S GETTIN' S M A C K E D #BUT HE DOES PROMISE THAT IF MIKKY IS GOOD DUDE HE WILL BE TREATED AS GOOD DUDE! WHAT IF RODRIGUE SAVED HIM THO #LISTEN TO ME FELLAS WHAT IF RODRIGUE SAVED MIKKY

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gojorgeous · 5 months

Text

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-

“Do you like them?”

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.

“Of course… Satoru.”

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.

“Not tonight.”

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.

“About the estate?” he asks.

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?”

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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frankingsteinery · 8 months

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AITA for not telling my fiancé I know he’s queer?

I 20s (F) have a 20s (M) fiancé, V, and he’s been talking about this terrible secret he cannot tell me and he keeps almost starting to come out and then backing out. The issue is V and I were raised together by his parents, and my surrogate 40s (M) father and (now deceased) surrogate mother arranged for our marriage back when we were both children. They thought it was the best for us and at the time we were too young to realize the implications and had no reason to reject to the match. When we were teenagers our mother was on her deathbed and she told us again that she wished for us to marry, and of course we both agreed. However, V is also best friends with a 20s (M) guy called H, and they were nearly inseparable as boys and teens. They also went to university together and shared an apartment but V had to come home due to family reasons. Lately he’s been going out all day and coming home at night hours later. He insists that he’s fine and that we all leave him alone and not worry for him, but I think he and H have been sneaking around. He even delayed our wedding day by arranging a trip to go to England alone with H. It’s exhausting for all of us and I think I should just tell V I know and support him and that we can call off the marriage, but I’m not sure that’s the best course of action? I’m completely fine with not marrying him - he always felt more like a brother to me anyway - but I worry it might come off wrong. The worst part is he’s really beating himself up about it. He’s so guilty it’s beginning to take a toll on his health. I don’t care if he has a boyfriend I just want him to be happy.

EDIT: nvm he built an 8ft creature in his dorm

#rob.txt #frankenstein #frankenstein the modern prometheus #victor frankenstein #henry clerval #elizabeth lavenza #gothic lit #inspired by that spider-man post.

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cosmictheo · 2 months

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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)

Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.

Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.

However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.

“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.

“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”

“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”

“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”

“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.

“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.

The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”

He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.

Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.

You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.

Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.

“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.

And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.

Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.

Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material.

You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”

Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.

He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.

“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.

He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.

“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.

Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.

“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”

You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.

Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.

You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.

Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.

“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”

You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.

“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.

“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”

Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.

It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.

“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”

When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.

“You fear me?”

He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.

He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.

“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”

“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”

“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”

After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”

He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.

Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.

Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”

From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.

But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.

He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”

You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.

“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.

He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.

You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.

“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”

Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.

“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.

#dune 2 #dune #dune part two #dune imagine #dune movie #dune one shot #dune x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #cosmictheo #feyd x reader #dune part 2 #feyd x you #feyd oneshot

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ladysharmaa · 2 months

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Why don't you love me?

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?

(gif is not mine)

It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.

It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.

Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.

This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.

From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.

However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.

She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?

So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?

It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.

"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.

"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.

At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."

The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."

"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"

However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.

"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"

Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."

When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."

"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.

Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.

But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.

One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.

It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.

To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.

Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"

"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.

The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.

On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.

"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.

"What?" he asked, still disoriented.

Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."

Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"

"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"

The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.

Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.

Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.

"It was silly of me to ask—"

"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."

"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"

"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."

"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.

"No."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.

The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.

Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.

While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.

But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."

"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.

Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.

"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.

"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."

"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.

"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."

"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."

"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."

Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.

"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."

She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.

"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.

"Lord Bridgerton—"

"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.

"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"

"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."

"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."

"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."

"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.

She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.

Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."

"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."

And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #collin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n

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luminnara · 3 months

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Protector | Feyd-Rautha x reader

ANON REQUEST: your marriage to Feyd-Rautha is an arranged one, and your only task is to provide an heir. When you finally become pregnant, your new husband suddenly grows obsessed with you—but does he care about you, or is he simply protective of his progeny?

Warnings: pregnancy, labor, and related talk; canon typical violence

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Your marriage was one born out of duty, not love. You couldn’t even call it a marriage of convenience; there was nothing convenient about leaving your homeworld and traveling across an entire galaxy to marry someone you had never even met before. Yes, the Houses had agreed beforehand that you were to marry Feyd-Rautha, the Na-Baron of House Harkonnen, and immediately after the deal had been struck you had seen his face and read his writing, but you hadn’t met him until your wedding day.

You had chastised yourself for thinking it could be like the fairytales of Ancient Earth. You, a princess, your betrothed a handsome prince…in the stories of your childhood, he would have whisked you away, off to a great, shining palace full of magical wonders, and you would have lived happily ever after. Instead, your prince had proved to be disinterested in you, busying himself with his arena and his concubines, ignoring you most of the day. The Harkonnen fortress did not shine, nor did it hold any great wonders, and Giedi Prime felt far from magical, with its harsh black sun and polluted landscape.

After your vows, you had naively thought your wedding night would be full of romance. Perhaps you had been holding onto hope as a means to protect yourself, clinging to optimism to distract yourself from your harsh, sad reality. You had been all too eager to shed your dress and veil in Feyd-Rautha’s living quarters, though had not expected them to be ruined by his blade, and you had not expected him to greedily conquer you as if it were yet another battle in the arena. He had slept next to you that night, but had made it painfully obvious that he had no interest in holding you or even touching you, keeping far to his side of the bed while you remained far to yours. In the morning, you had awoken alone, and had realized that it was the beginning of a long and lonely road on your new planet.

Everyone expected an heir. That was the entire point of this marriage, a legitimate heir for the Harkonnen line. Anyone else could have done it—you were of fine breeding, yes, but any of the other Houses could have offered up a daughter to suffer at Feyd-Rautha’s side. Why it had to be you surely came down to the only things powerful men seemed to care about—money and spice. An allegiance with House Harkonnen protected your family, and your small share of spice harvesters on Arrakis added yet another drop into their vast bucket and one less smuggling operation to worry about. Your parents were happy. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was happy.

And you were miserable.

Two months after your wedding, your monthly cycle continued as normal, and you were forced to shamefully inform the na-Baron. After an annoyed sound and a grimace, he bent you over the nearest table and took you for a second time, leaving you to clean yourself up and cry at your husband’s callousness. You didn’t know why he couldn’t bring himself to care. You supposed he already had everything he could possibly want; wealth, concubines, a throne to inherit…you brought nothing of real value to him, save for the ability to produce an heir.

Time passed, and it became clear that Feyd-Rautha would have to touch you more than once a month if he was to have any hope of fathering a child. You cursed yourself for your apparent inability to conceive—fertility had been one of your parents’ selling points when negotiating with the Baron, and now, you couldn’t even do the one thing that was expected of you. It brought you to tears every night, the stress of being reduced to this and yet still being unable to perform your task. It was maddening, though you knew you were hardly the first woman to find yourself in such a situation. You did worry, however, that you may have been the weakest.

One evening, as Feyd performed his husbandly duties, he noticed a tear slipping down your cheek and paused. You felt a rough hand cup the side of your face and opened your eyes to find your husband staring at you with dark eyes, his head tilted to suggest he was curious.

“Tears?” He asked in his raspy voice that was still so alien to you.

“My apologies, na-Baron,” you looked away from him.

“You are crying.”

You stifled an annoyed sigh. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Do not worry yourself with me, husband.” You said.

“Tell me.”

This was perhaps the longest conversation you had had since marrying him, and part of you didn’t want it to end. You looked at him once more, finding him still watching you with that unwavering, predatory gaze, and another tear rolled down your cheek and onto his hand.

“I am sorry I have not given you a child.” You whispered.

“Then let me put one into you.”

His tone sent a chill down your spine, frightening and exciting you all at once. That night, Feyd-Rautha did not let you sleep, shocking you with his determination. It was simply because the sooner you conceived, the sooner he could return to his own concerns, you reasoned.

Sure enough, your period did not arrive when expected, nor did the next. A medical test confirmed what you already knew—you were pregnant, with Feyd-Rautha’s child. A Harkonnen child, who would grow up to be just as ruthless and savage as its father, you thought.

Upon receiving the positive result, you immediately set off to tell the na-Baron. He should not be made to wait; you wanted him to know that the entire point of your union was finally achieved, and that you could both go back to ignoring each other as usual. As you walked, you had the worrying thought that he may not even keep you alive after the delivery.

“Na-Baron,” you addressed him upon finding him in his armory.

He looked up from the blade he was sharpening. “Wife.”

“I bring news,” you said, folding your hands in front of yourself.

“Then tell me, before I grow bored of waiting.” He returned to the hunting knife, looking away from you once more.

“I am with child.”

You watched as Feyd-Rautha paused, tilting his head to look at you. “My child?”

“Yes. Who else could it possibly belong to?” You asked, exasperated. “The physicians confirmed it just now. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

He nodded slowly, looking back at the knife in his hand as he thought. “I see.”

Whatever hopes you had once had for him to suddenly flip his entire personality at the news were quickly dashed by his lack of emotion. You left him there, a hand over your mouth as you tried not to cry, returning to your bed to be alone once more.

-0-

In those earlier days of pregnancy, you were often ill, sprinting from bed to the wash basin nearly every day to be sick. Usually, you were alone; Feyd-Rautha rose early, spending his mornings training and sometimes killing his instructors. Whenever that happened, he would come back, wearing blood and a grin on his face as if he had just won some great contest.

Today, however, he was enjoying a rare occasion of sleeping in. He had begun spending his nights in the center of the bed, crowding you as you attempted to stay away from him. One morning you had even woken up to find his arm throne over you, his body closer than ever. Now, he was sleeping, and you would have been content to let him remain there were you not busy launching yourself over him as you ran to the adjoining wash room.

You missed the way your husband sat up, eyes wide and frenzied as he pulled a dagger from beneath the pillows. When he found the room to be empty and free of danger, he grew confused…until he heard your retching in the next room, and slipped out of bed.

“Wife?” He asked from the doorway.

“What?” You groaned, leaning your cheek on the cool basin.

“…are you alright?”

You sighed. “No, na-Baron, I am not. I mean…I am, I just…”

“You are sick,” he pointed out.

It took every bit of willpower you possessed to swallow down the part of you that desperately wanted to throttle him. “Yes. I am. It’s the pregnancy, the pills from the doctors haven’t been working—“

“This has happened before?” He interrupted.

“Most days, yes,” you felt another wave of nausea coming over you and hunched your shoulders, preparing for the worst.

You never expected to feel a cool hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, nor the feeling of your husband’s chest against your back as he held you.

“Harkonnen women don’t have this problem,” he commented as he held your hair.

It was the least helpful statement he possibly could have made as you vomited once more, and yet it was also quite possibly the best.

“If Harkonnen women have no hair, then what do you pull?” You asked wryly, too ill and too exhausted to hold yourself back.

Feyd-Rautha stared you, unblinking, before a smirk found its way onto his lips. “If you are feeling brave, perhaps I will show you one day.”

You let out a laugh as the nausea ebbed, leaning back against him. “Perhaps one day I will finally stop seeing my lunch so many times, and then you can regale me.”

-0-

Your sickness faded as your pregnancy progressed, thankfully, but Feyd-Rautha’s company did not. By the time you were beginning to truly show, he was refusing to leave you alone, demanding your presence wherever he went. As a result, you sat in on many a sparring session, and he made up his mind to abandon the arena until after the baby was born. His sudden change in attitude was shocking; he had never paid so much attention to anything before, and now, his hands were constantly on you.

“I must keep you safe,” he had said when you first asked about it, and had acted as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.

You assumed he was protective due to the baby, the precious new heir to the Harkonnen throne. As its vessel, you were afforded some luxuries, but you fully expected that to change after the birth. For now, though, you were content to receive any and all attention your husband saw fit to pay you.

“That went well,” you said one day after the doctor examined you.

“He should not have touched you like that.” Feyd-Rautha growled.

“What do you mean? He’s a doctor,” you laughed, somewhat nervously.

“I did not like it.” His voice was tense.

“I could tell.” You grumbled, dropping your happy façade. He had nearly chased the doctor out of the room, hunting knife in hand. “Examinations are unavoidable, I’m afraid.”

“No more.”

“But—“

“No more strangers touching you.”

"Doctors help," you protested. "Don't you want your child to be healthy?"

At that, Feyd paused in thought. "...You may have a Harkonnen midwife."

"Because a Harkonnen doctor is too much?" You asked dryly.

He glared at you briefly before looking away towards the door. "Come."

You audibly groaned, one hand on your lower back. "Na-Baron, I am tired. I wish to retire to bed."

He looked back at you, and you caught an expression of distress on his face. "I need to train."

"You train every day."

"Yes." he said it as if it were obvious, but something in his tone suggested more; he made it sound urgent, as if it were something he had to do daily, and missing a single session would be disastrous. "Come."

You heaved a sigh and followed him.

-0-

In the months that followed, your unborn child grew, as did your body. You found yourself becoming large and bloated, your gait slowing as your flexibility waned. New maternity gowns were brought to you, an interesting mix of styles--the flowing, heavy garments of your homeworld meeting the simple, stark aesthetics of Giedi Prime. You found them strange, but at that point, you really didn't care; you would have walked around naked if no one would have stopped you. You spent your days feeling uncomfortable and awkward, with swollen feet and a sore lumbar region. Harkonnen servants brought whatever you needed, and your husband ensured--no, demanded--that all of your food be tasted by someone else while you watched so that there could be no chance of poison passing between your lips.

You wondered if this was simply some aspect of Harkonnen culture that the other Houses weren't aware of or never cared to talk about. Perhaps on a planet as harsh and toxic as Giedi Prime, infertility and infant mortality were more commonplace than the rest of the known universe. Perhaps this possessiveness was common among Harkonnen men, if conception was more difficult for their people.

Whether your theory was correct or not, Feyd-Rautha had certainly become even more attached to you. Not a morning went by when he wasn’t there next to you in bed, and as of late, he had begun waking you up by reminding you exactly how you had ended up like this in the first place. Before your pregnancy, he had acted as though bedding you were a boorish duty he had no choice but to perform; now that you were heavy with child, however, he was more than interested in you physically, constantly touching you with those rough, murderous hands.

You enjoyed the attention, and you enjoyed the way he squeezed and massaged you with surprising gentleness. He didn’t want to break you, you supposed, not right now; after the child arrived, perhaps, but not now. That was a grim thought, and one you had often—what was to come of your after the birth? Would Feyd-Rautha want more children, in case this one died some horrible, brutal, Harkonnen death? Or would you be disposed of, no longer needed after his legacy was secured?

You tried not to dwell on it.

One morning, you roused on your own, without Feyd’s interference. Wondering if he was even still there, you reached out to the side, feeling for him—and you nearly jumped when you felt bare flesh beneath your hand. When you rolled onto your back with considerable effort and turned your head to the side, you saw that your husband was there, still sleeping, and that what you had felt was his exposed chest.

You took the moment to look at him, really look at him. He seemed so peaceful like this, when he wasn’t fighting and killing. You had seen him take lives so quickly that his victims hadn’t even known they had died, and you had wondered how someone could be so dismissive of those around them. The first time you had watched your husband slit a throat, you had nearly vomited, and he had found your revulsion amusing; the most recent, however, you had simply sighed and looked away. You were desensitized, it seemed, just like he was, and now, you slept just as easily after watching him commit horrendous acts of violence as he did now.

Feyd-Rautha was handsome as far as Harkonnens went. His skin was smooth like marble, free of the scars and bruises one might expect to see on a warrior. His face, usually so harsh during the waking hours, was relaxed now, and you realized he was beautiful. You couldn’t keep yourself from brushing your fingers over his lips and feeling how surprisingly soft they were, though in a way, this felt wrong. Feyd-Rautha didn’t strike you as the kind of person who would allow this sort of touch, but when would you have this opportunity again? He always rose first in the morning and slept last at night. You never caught him with his guard down, and you kept your hands to yourself during the day. This was the only time you could marvel at him like this.

As your fingers ghosted across his cheek, he twitched, and you froze. Then, to your horror, an eye cracked open, and you knew that he had been awake all along.

When you moved to pull away, he caught your wrist, then covered your hand in his. He held your gaze for several long, strange moments, and you realized that he hadn’t simply been awake—he had been allowing you to touch his face, to explore him in a way you had never been brave enough to before. It felt like a gift, in a way. In his way.

“I apologize,” you breathed, unable to look away from him.

“Why?” He asked, voice deep and rough with sleep.

“I should not have touched you without permission.”

“I am your husband,” he said. “And you are carrying my child. You do not need permission to touch me.”

Somehow, you knew his words carried a deeper meaning. You knew you were one of, if not the only, one on all of Giedi Prime whom he had said those words to. And for the first time since marrying him, you felt that Feyd-Rautha was truly your husband.

-0-

He was with you when the labor began.

You had been lounging in your shared chambers, enduring the final week of your pregnancy. It felt bittersweet, in a way; you had no way of knowing then if you would ever be experiencing this again, and a part of you desperately wanted to hold onto it while the rest was fed up with feeling massive and uncomfortable every day.

Feyd-Rautha had been agitated all morning. It was as if he had known something was about to happen, and he had spent his time barely containing himself as he paced and sharpened knives, attempting to keep to himself and leave you alone and doing a piss poor job of it. You had been ready to chase him out of the room—or at least attempt to—when you felt your waters go and the panic set in.

That had been three hours ago.

Now, you were in your bed, and a shockingly-diligent Harkonnen na-Baron had yet to leave your side. He had briefly stepped into the corridor to bellow at the nearest passerby and your midwife had arrived very quickly as a result, but after that, he had sat down next to you and refused to go anywhere else.

“Is it agony?” He asked as you stood.

You shot him a glare. “I would not wish this sensation on even you.”

He was taken aback by your tone, impressed, even, by the venom in it.

“A short walk about the room may help,” the midwife suggested. “I will assist—“

“No.” Feyd-Rautha was up and at your side in an instant, taking your elbow. “I will.”

You didn’t care who did what, you just wanted it to be over and done with. The labor was progressing quickly, the midwife assured after another check once you were back in bed, and soon, you were wailing and grunting, your face was sweaty, and the na-Baron was staring in awe. You were focused on the task set before you, one hand on Feyd’s arm as you pushed with all your might, and so you could not see the way your husband was looking at you.

When your son was born and crying at the top of his tiny lungs, Feyd-Rautha cut the umbilical cord with a hunting knife and then he stared. It seemed that the entire time, he was incapable of looking away, his eyes glued to either you or the new Harkonnen heir. You supposed he had been too enthralled to order the midwife out of the room, and the woman was smart enough not to push her luck—she did the necessary examinations as quickly as she could, then handed the baby off to you, busying herself with cleaning what looked like a murder scene and gathering the afterbirth when it came. Then, satisfied with her work and the health of the child, she left, and you were alone with your husband and son.

You cradled the infant, tucking him against your breast and pulling the edge of your robe over him in an attempt to keep him warm. He was born pale, like his father, but with a soft layer of hair that made you wonder how much he might grow to look like you. The midwife had said it before she slipped out, and you had to agree—he was beautiful, and you smiled down at him.

A thud startled you and you turned to see that Feyd-Rautha had fallen to his knees at your bedside, looking at you with a reverence you had never seen in anyone before.

“Feyd?” You asked.

He looked between you and your son, and you saw then that something had changed within him over those many months. Gone was the dismissive, uncaring husband you had wed; this Feyd-Rautha had grown to become a protector, one who would fight until his muscles tore from his bones, who would bleed himself dry for you.

“You are stronger than I knew,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek much the way you had with him all those nights ago.

You felt a lump in your throat. “Come here. Join us.”

He did.

Feyd-Rautha sat with you there, in your bed, the very bed your first child was born in. He watched as your son woke from his peaceful, short nap, and he was privy to the private, intimate moment of his first feeding. He held the baby, staring at him in wonder and what may have been a touch of fear, supporting the both of you as he helped you to the bathing room when you were well enough to stand.

“A son,” he said, watching the baby sleep that night.

“Yes.” You mumbled, exhausted and nearly asleep as well. “Are you pleased, husband?”

“I would have been just as pleased with a daughter.”

That surprised you, and you glanced over your shoulder to see him propped up on an elbow, watching your son as he slept in his simple Harkonnen manger. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said, never once taking his eyes off the child. “I can teach a daughter to fight just as well.” Finally, he looked down at you. “Are you well?”

“As well as can be expected.” You sighed.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes, I am,” you answered him, sleep already dragging you down.

You barely felt his lips as he pressed a kiss to your temple, and you barely heard his voice as he said,

“I am as well.”

-0-

You had expected Feyd-Rautha to grow cold in the weeks following your son’s birth, but he never had. He was attentive, caring for you in a way that suggested he felt some primal urge to drag back great beasts for dinner every night but modern living prohibited that.

Now, you watched as he stood before one of the massive windows within the Harkonnen palace. It was evening on Giedi Prime, but the black sun casted no shadows over the landscape. Feyd-Rautha held your son, whispering to him, and as you watched, you wished the moment could stretch on forever.

“Husband,” you said, approaching him.

“Wife,” he greeted you, turning.

“On your evening walk together, I see.”

He chuckled. “I am showing him everything he will one day rule over.”

“I am surprised you haven’t taken him into battle with you yet,” you said sarcastically.

“I will strap him to my chest so that he might taste the blood of House Atreides,” he said with a grin.

“The youngest Harkonnen warrior the world has ever seen.” You smiled, leaning in to check on what appeared to be a perfectly happy, albeit possibile bloodthirsty, baby.

“What are you doing walking alone?” Feyd-Rautha asked.

“Looking for you.”

“And now that you have found me, what do you intend to do?”

You leaned into your husband, resting your head on his shoulder. “Drop the baby off with the wet nurse, seduce you, take you to bed and then have my way with you.”

“You have my attention.”

“I thought you might be interested in trying for a girl this time…”

In a blink, he had spun you around and was dragging you down the corridor, and once the baby was safely tucked in with a nursemaid watching over him, you did indeed have your way with your husband. And again. And again. And you realized, as you retired to bed that night, that you were truly glad to have been arranged to marry Feyd-Rautha, heir to the Harkonnen throne and father of your children.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #TW pregnancy #TW labor and delivery #dune x reader

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