#Mother Of The Bride Hairstyles

[shaadiwish]

Dearest mommies of the bride and groom, we finally have something that will gather your interest! While there are tons of style & hairstyle inspirations for brides, ShaadiWish is here with some fab hairstyles for the mother of the bride & groom.

[holybibly]

𝔐𝔶 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔈𝔪𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 | Seonghwa x reader

Pairing: Emperor Seonghwa x Virgin Bride reader Summary: You dreamed that your love would be like a cherry blossom - tender and beautiful, but instead you are going to get married to the Great Emperor of the Park Dynasty - the cruel and depraved "Lunar Dragon" Park Seonghwa.

Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, historical!AU, arranged marriage!AU, s2l, Royal!AU, Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 11.6 k

Warnings: Unprotected sex, deflowering, corruption kink, first time, virgin kink, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, and more.

net: @cultofdionysusnet A|N: Bunnies, as promised, I am going to spoil you with something absolutely glorious and wicked at the same time. Elegant depravity, that's what this is. Although I struggled to make this work, it has turned out to be absolutely amazing. I hope you're going to love Emperor Seonghwa as much as I love him. Have fun, bunnies, tonight is the night of the fall of the stars.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing

"Mom, I'm so frightened..." You barely whisper as you sit in front of the luxurious, heavy, gold-framed mirror as servants scurry about you, combing your long, jet-black hair and gathering the smooth, silky tresses into a traditional wedding hairstyle. Massive gold jewelry set with rubies and topaz framed your head and secured your long scarlet veil—the veil of a virgin bride. You stared at your reflection in the mirror with large, wide-open eyes full of anxiety, your hands trembling nervously as you clasped the thin silk of the white robe in your lap. Your whole body was slightly shuddering with a sense of fear and dread that bound your chest like stems of icy roses full of sharp thorns, which wrapped around your delicate, pale bones and prevented you from taking a full breath. It was so natural to be afraid, not only of the fact that in a few hours you would be the wife of a great and powerful man, a man who had power over everything in your world—the greatest emperor of the Park Dynasty, "Lunar Dragon" Seonghwa—but also of your first wedding night. 

"You should be proud of the fact that the Great Emperor has chosen you out of a million other girls, Y/N. His Majesty Emperor Seonghwa wants you and only you, and you must obey his wish without questioning and be the wife he would admire. You have my meaning, Y/N." Your mother said. She looked at the magnificent crimson robe, richly embroidered with gold thread, that the Emperor had chosen for you. The robe was magnificent, a perfect embodiment of His Majesty's exquisite taste and the ancient traditions of the ruling Park dynasty. Only surpassed by the brilliance of the great stars themselves and the hypnotic glow of Emperor Seonghwa's dark feline eyes were the stars and moons embroidered on the seemingly endless tail of your wedding gown. "After all, the empress must be a virgin when she ascends the throne; that is the tradition, and your purity and chastity will give the emperor a strong heir." Your mother's voice was calm and unemotional. It was as if she were talking about the most mundane of things, not your virginity. 

Your mother had explained to you many times how things were going to go down on your wedding night. She hadn't gone into great detail, only saying that you should do your best to please the Emperor. But now you had a good idea of what would happen when you were alone with the Seonghwa, and it couldn't help but frighten you. 

The marriage contract between your family and the ruling Park dynasty was made almost immediately after the birth of the current Emperor Seonghwa. Your family had many daughters, each one more beautiful than the one before. You never thought that you, the youngest of them all, would be the future wife of the Emperor. You had only met Seonghwa once, and then only briefly, remembering only his blowing in the wind silk robes, turquoise, and his long hair, the most beautiful shade of sakura blossom. 

But you have heard many gossipy stories about Seonghwa, and they filled you with fear and kept you awake at night. 

He was a cruel ruler—overbearing, selfish, proud, and arrogant. And Seonghwa was also absolutely insatiable; all the servants in the palace whispered about what a huge sexual appetite the emperor had and that his poor virgin bride would not be able to properly satisfy his hunger and desires. He had a huge harem of girls and handsome, exquisite young men who rotated in and out of His Majesty's chambers with an enviable frequency. Seonghwa never fucked the same concubine more than once. He could point his finger at anyone who interested him, and that person would be in his bed in no time. And tonight you will have to share his bed, and unlike the concubines who spend the night with him and then disappear into the luxurious gardens of the harem to continue their lives, you will have to stay by his side until death do you part, serving and worshipping him as your emperor and husband. And, of course, you will have to provide him with an heir—preferably more than one.

The purpose of your life is the continuation of the dynasty. 

You were intensely jealous of all your sisters, who were free to choose their husbands, who were free to marry for love, now that you would be the bearer of the unbearable burden of the crown. You never asked for it; you never wished for it. Seonghwa was extremely wealthy; he was the most powerful ruler in the world. He enslaved and conquered lands as if it were child's play. Even though the Emperor showered you with jewelry and gave you lavish gifts to marry, you didn't care. He would never love you, and you couldn't imagine a world where you could have love and desire for a man who knew nothing but the flames of war and debauchery. 

"I'm very scared of him, Mum..." You said again as you watched one of the maids place a golden hairpin set with a black onyx into your hair, given to you by one of the Seven Great Generals of Seonghwa, Choi San.

The dark-eyed demon had given it to you personally this morning, and looking at the man's otherworldly beauty, you couldn't help but think of the rumors that the generals were bound to Seonghwa not only by the battlefield and the hot blood that ran down their arms like scarlet rivers, but also by the silk sheets of the emperor's bed. And perhaps the devilish gleam in San's eyes as his plump, soft lips pressed sensuously against your wrist in a sign of respect meant that you would be able to confirm or deny the rumor in no time at all.

Right now, all you wanted was for your mother to make everything better for you, to spare you from the fears and terrible thoughts that swirled around in your head like a swirl of falling sakura petals, the color of which reminded you of Seonghwa's hair. You were a grown girl, hours away from becoming Empress, but there was a small part of you that longed to be safe and comforted by your mother. You wished with all your heart that she would be able to make Emperor Seonghwa change his mind and choose one of your sisters instead of you.

But it was impossible to do that. No one in this world had the right to go against the wishes of the great Emperor 'Lunar Dragon' Park Seonghwa. He chose you without even bothering to explain why, simply pointing his finger at you as you spent time with your sisters in the Imperial Garden during one of your family's visits to the palace. 

"She will be my Empress. She will be mine." Seonghwa said, and you saw the eyes of your mother glisten with tears that had not been shed.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." Your mother whispered to you. "But perhaps the Emperor will be a good husband. If he wants to have strong and healthy heirs, he'll have to treat you well."

Your mother tried so hard to be brave for you, and you were forever grateful to her for that. In your family, it was always believed that a man had to treat his wife well if he wanted her to bear him a large number of children. And your father really did idolize her, judging by the fact that your mother gave birth to nine children. You could only hope that Emperor Park would follow this wisdom, but you really had doubts that Seonghwa would make any effort to honor and follow your family's traditions. He probably didn't care about anything except increasing his power and satisfying his animal sexual desires. 

Seonghwa was a true dragon, not only by blood but by nature. A predatory beast dressed in silk robes and glittering jewels. 

"I will do my best to please him." You murmured, and you immediately heard the soft chuckle of a maid tucking a veil into your hair. You cast an angry glance at the slender girl, and her cheeks flushed in an instant. But you could understand the reason for her laughter. What pleasure could a virgin give an experienced and lecherous emperor, whose luxurious bed was warmed by the most beautiful and seductive girls and boys in the empire? 

It was a bit of a delusion on your part to wish for that. Most likely, Songhwa would see you as just another beautiful thing in his collection, spending the rest of your life bearing children and sitting on a velvet cushion. Once the wedding ceremony was over, you would be nothing more than his next great conquest. 

"Give me your hand, My Lady." Another of the maids spoke to you politely, and you reluctantly held out your cold palm to her. The girl carefully placed a heavy gold bracelet on your wrist, engraved with a dragon with rubies glinting ominously in its eyes; it was more like a shackle, another gift from the General, this time given to you by the magnificent Kim Hongjoong. 

As you knew, Hongjoong was not only one of the seven generals and Seonghwa's confidant, but also his close childhood friend, with whom he grew up and shared everything in his life. Hongjoong was also the one who visited you more often than the other generals. He had a devilish gaze and a sly curve of blood-red lips, and he instilled in you the same animal terror as Seonghwa himself. You thought that everything he touched or said had an ulterior motive, and frankly, you didn't really want to know the true meaning of his actions, but the smile he gave you last night when he handed you the bracelet left you no choice. Sooner or later, you will find out, but by then, it will be too late to try to escape the Golden Emperor's cage. Your life, like your body, will belong to Seonghwa from now on. 

You swallowed hard as the maids began to remove the robe from your shoulders. It exposed your sun-untouched skin. 

"My Lady, it is time..." 

You could hear your mother sobbing softly as the bloody silk flowed down your body. She seemed to be holding back the tears from all of them for your sake. Your heart was beating faster, and your fingers were starting to tremble. You were only a few hours away from your inevitable destiny and several miles of ceremonial procession, at the end of which would be the Great Lunar Dragon, Seonghwa Park.

The anxiety of it all almost made your stomach hurt. 

The wedding ceremony was grand; your golden palanquin was carried solemnly down a street strewn with flowers and silk ribbons to the cheers of the crowd welcoming their new Empress. The flash of his cherry blossom hair and the firm, possessive palm of his hand that took yours before leading you up the great staircase 'to heaven' are all you can remember of Seonghwa. It was all a blur to you—the rich scent of incense and flowers making your head spin and a nervous knot tightening in the pit of your stomach. Your hands were cold in the Emperor's hot palms as you made your marriage vows. Your lips trembled as you swore to be his precious wife and to carry the burden of a great empire on your shoulders as his Empress. Tears welled up in your eyes. 

Songhwa's soft, velvety voice whispered in your ear, "You belong to me.". 

Nothing in the universe could have prepared you for his kiss - fiery, passionate, and hungry, it seemed as if Songhwa wanted to drink your soul through that kiss, to consume you whole, to turn your will and your desires to ashes. You heard the rapturous cheers of the seven generals and other cronies of the ruling Park dynasty. The Emperor's graceful palm encircled your neck from behind and pulled you closer to him. Your knees buckled, and you could barely breathe as Songhwa's long, hot tongue took possession of your mouth, wrapping around your own tongue and sliding across your palate and the inside of your cheeks. His thumb pressed lightly against the pulsing vein in your neck, your pulse racing beneath his soft fingertip as his teeth dug into your plump lower lip, almost biting to the blood. 

You wanted to scream in pain, but there were too many people around—too many angry tongues dripping venom—just waiting to start gossiping about you. So instead, you tried to distract yourself from the pain and focus on something else.

But instead, your eyes were captured by the seductive gaze of the siren belonging to none other than General Jung Wooyoung. His full, sensuous lips parted as if he were enjoying the kiss itself, the sharp tip of his tongue sliding across the soft, red flesh of his lower lip, leaving him glistening and moist. You had the feeling that his dark, almost black eyes were gliding over your body. His gaze was shamelessly undressing you, while his friend, his Emperor, was devouring your mouth with a hungry, passionate kiss. You looked away in shame and embarrassment.

When Seonghwa finally let go of you and allowed you to take a long-awaited deep breath, you felt like you were going to faint. Just a small glimpse of what awaited you on your wedding night sent shivers of fear down your spine. 

"You belong to me. Forever." Seonghwa whispers again, and you have a full understanding of the meaning of his words. Yes, you really do belong to him right now.

When it's time for you to leave the ceremony and prepare for your first wedding night, you almost start to gasp. You catch San's dark, demonic gaze as he leans over to whisper something into General Kim's ear. His words cause Hongjoong's blood-red lips to curl into an evil, almost devilish grin. Even through the many layers of heavy silk, you can feel the flames of his gaze burning through your skin. 

"Your Majesty..." You turn your head to the side, only to find yourself facing the goddess Aphrodite herself, in the form of a man. General Kang Yeosang has always held a special place in your heart. Gentle and elegant like an exotic flower, his speech always soft and soothing, and his deep, velvety voice like the call of a chamois. Seonghwa's hair may have been the color of delicate sakura petals, and his eyes may have been brighter than all the stars in the endless midnight sky, but that was just a facade to hide the lustful and cruel devil that lurked inside. Yeosang, on the other hand, in spite of his wicked beauty, was the very embodiment of an angel. You will have heard the servants of the palace call him the Black Swan of the Empire. 

Yeosan's soft and gentle nature might have reassured you and even given you some semblance of comfort before Seonghwa ravaged your body and took what was now his—your virginity. But the sensual curve of his plump lips and the hungry glint in the dark eyes of the siren, General Jung Wooyoung, who now extended his palm to you in an inviting gesture, sent an icy shiver down your spine. You rarely saw Wooyoung, and when you did, there was always a decent distance or several other people between you, so you had never felt his presence as close as you did now, and you had never been so fascinated by the sharpness of his face or the small mole under his eye, and this feeling frightened you as much as it frightened Seonghwa and Hongjoong. 

"Your Majesty, it's time for you to go." As he turned to you, Wooyoung's voice was sultry and hoarse. It made you feel as if the flames themselves were licking at your body or at the lips of your lover in the heat of a forbidden caress. 

"I...my maids should see me out. General Jung, thank you." You bite your lip nervously and look around, hoping to find your maids and avoid the two generals' eyes on you, but instead you see Seonghwa watching you intently, his head tilted slightly to the side, a few soft pink strands falling onto his gorgeous face. If he could only have a breath, it would be majestic. Seonghwa was indeed the true embodiment of the divine Lunar Dragon.

"His Majesty, the Emperor Seonghwa, has ordered us to escort you to his chambers in person." It was Yeosang's voice this time. Something about the way he said your husband's name aroused you, and not in the most pleasant way.

"I... I'm not quite sure, General Kang." You have an almost pathetic look on your face, an attempt to delay the inevitable, and to be honest, you had no desire to be in the company of any of the seven illustrious generals right now. 

Wooyoung just grinned mischievously at your words, obviously finding you very amusing. As he leaned closer, his lips almost touched your earlobe, and you could smell the scent of sandalwood emanating from his caramel skin. 

"Don't make him wait, dear. Seonghwa is an impatient and passionate lover; the longer you resist him, the harder he will be with you, and we don't want a jewel like you to be injured, do we?" 

"Stop it, Wooyoung; you're scaring her." Yeosang hisses, but does nothing to contradict the words of General Jung. 

You swallow noisily and silently place your cold, clammy palm in Wooyoung's hand, letting him and Yeosang escort you to the Emperor's quarters. The last thing you notice as you leave the Ceremonial Hall, where the noisy festivities of the Imperial Wedding will continue until dawn, is the sensual curve of Seonghwa's luscious, plump lips as he smiles at you and the glimmer of ominous rubies in the eyes of the golden dragon on the very same bracelet you wear on your arm, jingling on Hongjoong's slender wrist as he lazily waves goodbye to you.

"You don't have to worry that hard, Y/N." Wooyoung says as he pulls the heavy silk of your wedding gown off your shoulders, and you might have resented the familiarity with which he addressed you if you hadn't felt the glide of his fingertips over your bare skin. The whole situation was confusing, to say the least. Completely beyond any conscious explanation, two great generals of the Empire are now acting as your personal maids, helping you change your dress, removing your jewelry, and unraveling the intricacies of your wedding hairstyle.

Letting them treat you like a doll, undressing you layer by layer, and exposing more and more of your body to their dark gaze, you didn't know how to react or what to say. Wooyoung's breath was hot on the back of your neck, while Yeosang's cold fingers brushed over your collarbones as he removed the massive gold necklace. They continued their actions until you were left in the thin white dress that was the base of your outfit, and the only jewelry you wore was a black onyx stud given to you by San and, as it turned out, a paired bracelet from Hongjoong. 

"Everything will be alright, Your Majesty." Yeosang gently ran his thumb over your wrist, the feel of your pulse racing under his touch. He liked the fact that he was making you nervous; your reaction brought a smile to his beautiful lips. Wooyoung's arms wrapped around your waist for a second, and his firm, hot chest pressed tightly against your back. You could swear you could feel his heart beating through your skin at that moment; he was so close to you. 

"We will leave you now, my... Empress." It was almost as if he whispered the last word into your skin. "Enjoy your night." His touch was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, and you could feel the cold air of the room now caressing you as General Jung's hot body moved away from you. 

"Try to relax and let Seonghwa take care of you; I promise nothing terrible will happen to you." Yeosang leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on your cheek before following Wooyoung out of the room, leaving you all alone—completely confused, frightened, and not knowing what to expect from Seonghwa if his generals could afford to treat you like this. 

"Lunar Dragon" - the great Emperor Park Seonghwa is standing in front of you. His luxurious long hair, the colour of sakura petals, was still partially gathered on his head by long crystal hairpins. Teardrop-shaped crystals were dangling from them. He had replaced his heavy ceremonial robes with a light mantle of the most beautiful snow-white silk you've ever seen - dragons embroidered in silver and turquoise danced on the fabric like in the clouds. You can see his naked, chiseled torso, his muscular chest rising and falling to the rhythm of his measured breathing. Seonghwa's appearance is completely relaxed, but everything about him is a scream of the majesty and power he has over this world. He notices the way your eyes slide down his body, his lips curling into a satisfied, smug grin. You blush and lower your eyes to the floor.

Your heart is beating at breakneck speed against your ribs, and you have the feeling that Seonghwa can easily hear the sound. Your mother told you that you might feel aroused when you were alone with the Emperor, that you would want to touch his body, taste his lips, feel his hot hands on you, and maybe even feel his mouth on your private parts, but you... you didn't want to. You didn't feel aroused at all. You were afraid of Seonghwa, and after what Wooyoung had said to you in the ceremonial hall today, you were even more afraid of him, and no amount of assurances from Yeosang that everything would be all right could change your mind. You were afraid to even look him in the eye, and you clutched the fabric of your dress nervously in your hands, trying to calm yourself.  

"My Emperor, are you going to hurt me today?" You were so stupid, good Lord, you couldn't think of anything else to say? Apart from the wedding vows, these were the first words you'd ever spoken to him directly, and you couldn't think of anything else to say: "Will you hurt me?" For some strange reason, you expected that after the wedding you would magically feel like a different person, that after saying your vows, your animal fear of Seonghwa would disappear. It didn't happen at all. You continued to feel frightened and ignorant, and completely at the mercy of the Emperor.

You could feel the weight of his heavy, hypnotic gaze on your skin as he silently scanned your body through the thin, transparent dress that you wore. He was looking at you shamelessly and greedily, and it only served to increase your fear. Seonghwa's long fingers cupped your chin and lifted your face. The soft pad of his thumb is pressed against your lower lip. You hesitantly met his gaze, your eyes instantly held hostage by the magnetic, bottomless eyes of the Emperor. Sharp and soft, demonic and angelic, sparkling like eternal stars and impenetrable like the thickest darkness, you had never met anyone with such eyes. His almost black irises flickered like flames, as if they were absorbing the glow of the candlelight. 

"Is that the way you are supposed to address your husband, hmm? Call me by my name." Seonghwa's command to you. The sound of his voice was like liquid silk. Seonghwa grabbed your chin with his graceful hand and tilted your head even higher. You had to strain your neck to hold his gaze with your eyes. 

"M-my Emperor..." Your voice trembles, and in spite of the clear command, you say something completely different from what Seonghwa wants you to say. 

His finger presses harder against your lip, the sharp nail digging into the soft flesh in a painful way, and your mouth opens automatically. 

"I want to hear you say my name, my love. And you need to obey without questioning, darling. You don't want to upset me. Do you?" Seonghwa's tone of voice is still soft and velvety, but you can hear the small hint of a hidden threat in his words. And it is scaring the hell out of you right now. To be honest, you don't want to say his name at all. There's something about it that feels like an irreversible end, like if you say it out loud, you're going to lose any semblance of controlling your life. But there can be no disobedience, especially not now.

"Seonghwa." It's easier than you thought, but for some reason, his name still leaves a bitter taste on the tip of your tongue. 

He turns away from you, instead walking over to the luxurious bed and lowering himself smoothly onto it. The flaps of his robe swing further open, and the wide silk collar slides off his shoulders as he sits down on the soft feather bed. You can't help but admire the Emperor for a moment as strands of pink hair fall across his handsome face. 

His eyes narrowed predatorily for a second. His gorgeous, god-like face takes on a sharp, animal beauty, but it's only for a moment before his expression becomes majestically relaxed again. 

"There you are, good girl." His praise is as condescending as if he were addressing one of the many maids in the palace instead of his Empress. Without taking his eyes off you, Seonghwa pushes his thumb fully into your mouth, pressing it against your tongue's soft, slippery surface. Your eyes widen at the action. "Lick it." He gives the order again, and you weakly run your tongue along the pad of his finger, leaving a thick trail of saliva on it. Then he pulls the finger out of your mouth, takes a step back, and, looking you in the eye, pushes the wet finger into his mouth. His plump lips close in an erotic way around the long appendage as he sucks weakly on it. Heat floods your whole face at this seemingly innocent act, but when Seonghwa does it, it looks so damn lewd and lascivious.

"Strip for me." Seonghwa's voice commands you.

The cold air of his chambers was now licking at your skin, causing your sensitive nipples to tense and swell in response. Embarrassed, you covered yourself with your arms and crossed your legs slightly to hide your pussy from the dark, burning gaze of the Emperor. At that moment, Seonghwa reminded you of a huge, contented cat that had gotten the cream. He leaned back slightly on his hands on the bed, arching his back and tilting his head to the side, making the muscles in his long, thin neck tense. Seductive wasn't a strong enough word to describe the way the Emperor looked right now. Depraved? Vicious? Devilish? Maybe it was all of those things at the same time. 

Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment. His command was clear and precise, and the fear of being completely vulnerable in front of him made your heart beat even faster. Your fingers trembled as you reached for the wide waistband of your dress. It had all happened so very quickly. Your mind had barely had time for a moment's reflection. You knew that it was best to obey him and not question what he wanted. Carefully, you unbuckled the belt, and the dress slid gently down your body before it spilled out in a puddle of silk on the floor at your feet. 

"I-I... do you like it?" You asked him. Your voice was barely above a whisper. God, it was so embarrassing. Would this happen every time you shared a bed with him? You lowered your eyes to the floor, unable to bear to look at his hungry, lustful gaze. 

"Ain't you a pretty little jewel, huh? It was so sweet of you to ask me that. Now take your hands away, so that I can see the whole of your pretty body."

His words caused you to let out a soft squeak, as you were completely shocked. It was humiliating, to say the least. It was one thing to be lying naked under someone else, but it was a lot more vulnerable to find yourself completely naked in the middle of the room. But there was no way you could forbid the Emperor to look at your body the way he wanted to. The words he had spoken earlier were still running through your mind: "You belong to me." So you obeyed him once more, even though everything in your heart was telling you not to. 

"What's a gem? Are you so embarrassed already?" Seonghwa laughed grimly as he looked at your naked body; his eyes lingered on your pussy as he sensually ran the tip of his long tongue over his plump, sensual lips. "Come closer to me, darling." 

God, it seemed like it couldn't get any worse, but obviously the Emperor had thought a lot about how to make you squirm without even touching you. You took a couple of steps forward until you were standing between his legs as they spread apart. 

"Now turn around for me." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, the velvety tone getting darker and more husky. Your face turned even more red, and your lips began to quiver. You slowly turned away from him so that he had a good view of your bottom. You could feel his predatory eyes on the small of your back and his greedy gaze on your crotch. You almost screamed as you felt his hands on your hips, pulling you down with all their might until you were sitting on the bed between his legs. Seonghwa pressed his body against your back, and it reminded you of Wooyoung, but that thought disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when his hands cupped your breasts and his full lips were pressed against your ear. "You're supposed to please me, you know." He said. His hot breath flowed over the soft skin of your ear with each letter of the word he spoke. It sent a shiver down the length of your body. "Remember this." He squeezed your breasts roughly, causing you to give a soft whimper. 

"Yes, Your Majesty…" You breathed out.

Your breasts were terribly sensitive under his rough and skilled hands, and you were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you collapsed completely into his arms. You had no idea how pleasurable it could be; you'd never played with your boobs before. As Seonghwa's long fingers brushed lightly over your swollen nipples, a soft moan of pleasure escaped your open lips. 

"You're so sensitive, my little jewel, and that's what I love about virgins; you're all so sweet and shy, you blush and whimper at the slightest touch. But do you know what it is that I love the most?" Seonghwa asked you as he gently twisted your nipples with his long, thin fingers, making you moan and shake your head in a negative way. "Most of all, I love to see the look on their pretty faces when I stretch their tight little cunts with my big, thick cock. I love the sound of them moaning my name as they cum on my tongue." God, that was just too much.��

The combination of the Emperor's deep, hypnotic voice and how dirty and disgusting his words were almost made you whimper pitifully. His hands continued to play expertly with your heavy, plump tits, massaging and squeezing the flesh as his fingers tweaked and pulled at the hard, sensitive nipples. The tender skin of your breasts reddened under his firm grip. Unconsciously, you rested your head on his shoulder, becoming more and more lost in the sensation of his touch on your body. 

"But you are my shining star; you are special to me, unlike those whores who live only with the thought of being filled with Imperial sperm. They will never be able to stand in your shoes, and none of them will ever be the mother of my heir. None of them will ever be my Empress." One of his hands slid down your belly until his hot palm cupped your pussy in a possessive way. His long middle finger pressed between your labia to feel the moisture that had accumulated there. Your breath caught in your throat as Seonghwa pulled roughly on your nipple, his palm pressing even harder against your cunt. "I'm going to fuck that virgin pussy until your belly swells up with my heir." His lips brushed against your ear again, and he whispered in a sultry voice. "And maybe it won't just be mine, if you know what I mean." 

Seonghwa began to kiss your neck, leaving scorching, open-mouthed kisses on your skin. His lips were plush and moist as they glided over the sensitive veins and nerves, which flowed in bluish, translucent rivers beneath the pallor of your skin. You moaned and unconsciously pressed your pussy harder against his hand as Seonghwa's teeth bit into a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. The Emperor ran the tips of his fingers along the silken folds of your cunt, the moisture clinging to his fingers.

"I-I...oh..." Endless moans echoed through the room as Seonghwa's finger pads pressed against your sensitive clit. The light pressure on the swollen bundle of nerves sent waves of pleasure through your body. 

"Can you feel it, my star? Do you have a sense of how swollen and wet your pussy is?" The Emperor's words caused another moan to escape your lips; your mind was hazy and distant, and Seonghwa's voice was luring you deeper and deeper into the trap of lust and pleasure. "I can feel your desire, my jewel; your little cunt wants to be filled with cock so desperately." He said. Lost in the sounds and sensations of your own body, your hips twitched as his fingers began to circle your clit. Your breathing came and went, each exhale punctuated by a soft moan of pleasure. "Your virgin pussy is throbbing under my touch, my little star. I want to see you sink into ecstasy; I want to see that shy, innocent facade shatter as you cum and wriggle under my touch." Seonghwa removed his hand from your breast, then wrapped his fingers around your chin, turning your head sideways so your lips met his. "Under my tongue." He whispered before you had the taste of his kiss for the second time that night. You were so mesmerized by the feel of the Emperor's soft, luscious lips on yours that you didn't notice him pressing his hips against you.

You were whimpering into his mouth as you felt the hard, hot length of his cock pressing down hard against your arse. Your eyes widened in fear, and your mouth opened to allow Seonghwa's tongue to enter your mouth and wrap around your tongue in a sensual way.

Seonghwa's kiss to you at the wedding ceremony was nothing in comparison to the kiss he was giving you now. The impossible, hot-tight, sinful, shameful, pleasure-filled kiss that made you gasp and whimper against his lips. A low, guttural moan escaped from his lips, becoming almost animalistic in nature as his fingers slid deeper and deeper between your folds. Seonghwa growls and pulls his lips away from yours, swollen and tortured after his caresses them. You moan loudly as his fingers circle around your clit, your juices making it slick and slippery, and that just adding the stimulation. Mindlessly, you buck your hips against his touch, and he lets you do it, enjoying how desperate you are already looking. The Emperor was right. Virgins are always so easy, too pliable, and eager to be touched. And you, his precious little Empress, are no exception. 

His eyes were the trap of vice, the bottomless pit of lust and wickedness, but you couldn't look away from them. They were lustrous and almost black, like the onyx in the jewelled hairpin San had given you. They seemed to penetrate your very soul, making you shiver. A seductive grin played across his devilishly handsome face as his fingers continued to play with your pussy, making it more and more wet and in need of attention. You gasped for breath as you felt your little hole squeeze on nothing, and a thick, gooey drop of slime poured out of you. 

"Ahm-aah...Your Majesty...ahhhh...Seonghwa." You were at a loss for words and had no formula. Pleasure curled up at the core of your being, and you rolled your eyes in delight. 

"Yes, that's right, my star. Does it feel good? Do you like it when my fingers play with your little virgin pussy, when you feel them on your throbbing, swollen clit?" He asked. The silk of his voice was a breath that was a tickle to your ear.

"Your Majesty... It's... It's so embarrassing." 

His eyes flashed with pleasure, and the grip he had on your face was like a vice grip. You felt his hips jerk forward, and he pressed his cock harder against the soft flesh of your ass. His excitement was obvious. Suddenly, his fingers stopped teasing the folds of your cunt. Seonghwa brought them to his mouth instead. His eyes sparkled like jewels, seductive and dangerous, as his long tongue darted out of his mouth to lick the viscous fluid that ran down the long appendages. 

"You're sweet—maybe too sweet for your own good." Seonghwa wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you closer to his beautiful face, so that his lips make contact with yours once more. "And there's something you should know about me, my star: I have a horrible sweet tooth." Instantly, he releases you from his grip and changes position so that you're on your back, spread out on the beautiful sheets, his lithe body hovering over you. His hair is completely disheveled, long strands of pink falling haphazardly across his face, and you can see a faint blush on his cheeks and his luscious lips, swollen from kissing and taking on a darker shade. God, he looks like a true deity, and you can see why they call him the 'Lunar Dragon'; mere mortals can never be so majestic and seductive; they are not given that magnetic pull that draws everyone to this dangerous creature like a moth to a flame. 

Seonghwa slides down your body until his hands are cupped around your thighs, pulling them apart so that your juicy, wet cunt is exposed to his hungry gaze. He runs his fingers gently down your thick, soft thighs, squeezing your flesh together for a moment, the sharp tips of his nails digging painfully into your thighs, and you make a squeal at the rough caress. It was a terrible shame to lie there, completely naked, with your legs spread wide open, while Seonghwa towered over you, still fascinating and powerful, even if he did look a little disheveled. And what was even more humiliating was that you were already so wet for him—your juices were constantly flowing from your hole and dripping between your cheeks onto the silk of the sheets—but you didn't have time to think about that when Seonghwa pressed down on your clit without warning, making you gasp loudly. You almost screamed, your legs twitching in a feeble attempt to squeeze together as he skillfully circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingernail lightly scraping the tender skin. 

"You have such a sweet little cunt, my star," Seonghwa whispered as he pushed your swollen labia apart to expose the soft pink inside. He bent his face over your pussy and let his hot breath flow over the sensitive flesh, causing even more fluid to spill out of your hole. "I will only say this once, my precious. You will be a good girl and take everything I give you. I will eat that sweet virgin cunt for as long as I want. If you dare to refuse, I will fuck you without any stretches at all, and believe me, unlike you, I am going to get a lot of pleasure when my cock rips that tight cunt in half. Do you understand me?"

"I-I, yes, I understand, Your Majesty." 

The first licks from Seonghwa's tongue on your juicy pussy made you arch your back and roll your eyes. The sensation was too overwhelming for your words. As soon as the Emperor had tasted you on his lips, he began to eat you with a hungry ferocity. Seonghwa plunged his tongue into your tight, wet hole, almost biting your tender, quivering folds, his teeth clawing at your swollen, sensitive clit, making you writhe and squirm as his hands gripped your thighs tighter. 

Seonghwa lived for the pussy, and he'd tasted a lot of it over the years, but your sweet virgin cunt tasted the best of all. His little Empress had the most amazing cunt of them all—a pussy that was worthy of an emperor. 

"I can't wait to get my tongue inside you, my star. Do you like it, my Empress? Tell me. Do you like my tongue in your slutty virgin pussy?" 

"Uh, huh... I... I... it feels so good... your Majesty..." You moaned.

Your viscous slime and his own saliva now coated Seonghwa's chin as his mouth pressed greedily against you, licking and lapping up all the juices flowing from you as if they were divine nectar. Your tight hole was twitching under the caress of his tongue, begging for filling. And who was he to refuse to give it to you? 

Seonghwa slid his finger into the throbbing warmth of your vagina, feeling the slight resistance of the muscles as the long appendage stretched your virgin entrance. He did it slowly, but you moaned in spite of himself as his finger filled you. His lips circled around your clit, slowly sucking at the sensitive cluster of nerves, and Seonghwa felt the warm, silky walls of your pussy tighten around his finger. 

"Y-Your Majesty... that's a lot... I" You found it hard to speak; hot excitement was flowing beneath your skin, making you helpless and pliable for him, but a sharp slap on your thigh made you cry out loudly. The mark of his hand bloomed like a rose on the milky surface of your skin. 

You continued to whimper as you responded to the rough and vulgar words the Emperor spoke to you. Not daring to take his eyes off the way your hole was absorbing them, Seonghwa added another finger. Your walls clenched around his fingers, trying to hold them in, even though the burning sensation of stretching made it difficult. To make it easier for Seonghwa to move his fingers in and out of your pussy, you tried to relax as much as possible. A lump of saliva landed on the top of your pussy and spread over your delicate folds. 

"My Name. I need you to moan out my name and nothing else, my star. I want to hear you say it out loud as I destroy you with my fingers and my tongue. Your hungry cunt swallows my fingers so well, my little 

Empress."

"Look at you, my star; you're so wet for me; you literally drip into my mouth. You are not so clean and pure any more, are you? Who would have thought that a beautiful lady would like to have her cunt licked?" The squelching of your wetness and Seonghwa's saliva as he slid two fingers in and out of your tight hole was loud and disgusting.  Seonghwa was mesmerized by the way your pussy clung to his fingers, his tongue circling the edges of your vagina, slipping inside slightly each time his fingers came out of you. 

You arch your back and feel a strange, crushing tension build up in your lower abdomen, and you clench the silk sheets in your fists. It's frightening, but somehow you have a desire for it to consume you completely. 

"Seonghwa, I... Oh God... I, I don't know, this feeling inside me..." Your breathing is ragged, with each word coming out of your mouth with difficulty. The Emperor lifts his hypnotic gaze up to you, his mouth still pressed against your pussy. His eyes are so dark and hypnotic—glimmering black stars in the lacy frame of his eyelashes—and you swear you see a flash of golden glow in them before it fades, leaving only lust and insatiable hunger. 

"My little Empress, you are about to cum for the first time, are you? Jewel, you must wait until I say so." Seonghwa growled as he squeezed the soft flesh of your thigh harder and harder, and you could already see the purple and black bruises that were beginning to form on your skin. "Your slutty cunt won't be able to come until I tell you to." You whimper pitifully at the command of authority in his velvety voice, your pussy clutching onto his two fingers. 

But Seonghwa doesn't seem to have had enough and decides to stretch you even further, trying to push a third finger inside you, causing you to squeal and jerk your hips in an attempt to avoid the stinging sensation inside you, but it has the exact opposite effect. Your abrupt movement forces his fingers deeper into you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside, and you gasp at the sharp sensation of delight that rips through you like a bolt of lightning. You are so lost in pleasure that you don't even notice the tip of his third finger as it enters you. 

Seonghwa is sucking on your clit in an almost lazy way, stretching and stimulating you at the same time. 

"S-Songhwa!" You almost start to cry, your eyes filling with tears from the mixture of feelings and emotions. This is too good to pass up, but at the same time, too much for you to bear. "Please, Seonghwa, Your Majesty." 

"Hmm, are you beggin' me already, my star? My little Еmpress, if you can't take my fingers, then you'll never be able to take my cock, and that is literally your only responsibility in life. To lie here in my bed and to fuck me like this. Your husband and your Еmperor. Seonghwa replies, licking the broad stripes between your trembling soft folds and pulling her fingers out of you to suck on your clenching, flowing hole. 

"I'm sorry... I'm t-trying to be a decent wife to you... I'm so sorry." You stutter. 

The Emperor slid three fingers back into your pussy, stroking your velvety walls and pressing the pads of his fingers against your G-spot as he did so. 

"You're so sweet, begging and crying like a pretty little girl, but you're not a girl anymore. You're my wife, my Empress, so be damned obedient to me and take everything I give you without objection." When he had finished speaking, his lips were around your exhausted clit again. 

"Oh, please, Seonghwa! P-please, I need...I want...please let me come...I promise I'll be so good to you." Tears streamed down your face as your whole body began to shake a little, and you lifted your hips to press even harder against Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa seems to have decided to spare you this time, enjoying how desperate and needy you look—all that crying and whining, and he hasn't even fucked you properly. But it's not over yet. 

"If you want it so badly, darling, you can cum." As soon as those words fall from his flushed, swollen lips, it feels as if your whole body is completely attuned to his every command or desire, and you arch up almost immediately, rolling your eyes and experiencing your first real orgasm on Seonghwa's long, slender fingers. Seonghwa lets out a deep, low moan as he watches you writhe in pleasure as he continues to finger-fuck you until you begin to whimper and beg him to stop.

"I'm not done with you yet, my star." Seonghwa whispers in a grim voice as he pushes his fingers into your wet and sensitive pussy. You're almost incoherent at this point, shaking with excitement as he pulls his fingers out of you and crawls up your body to pull you into a hot, dirty kiss. His lips, chin, and cheeks are wet and sticky with your juices, but he doesn't care; he doesn't bother wiping, preferring to fuck your mouth with his tongue. 

As Seonghwa pulled away from your lips and allowed you to take a full breath, the look on his face took on that predatory animal look that you'd seen on him before tonight, and it was crystal clear to you what was going to happen next. Fear and excitement at the prospect of finally losing your virginity mix together in your heart. You weren't sure if the feeling was one of relief or horror, but your body was already on edge with anticipation. You could feel your stomach twist with desire and excitement, and you were absolutely shocked that your body reacted in this way even after an orgasm. 

"And now, my little Empress, I would like to show you what it means to be the wife of the Emperor. His beautiful cock sleeve." Seonghwa gets down from you, but only to take off his silk robe and to pull his trousers down over his long legs until he is completely naked. His hair is now completely loose, long strands the color of sakura petals falling freely over his shoulders and chest. You would want to admire how beautiful his face looks framed by his pink silk hair if your eyes weren't focused on his cock pressed against his flat, embossed belly. Like everything about His Majesty Emperor Seonghwa, his cock was just as magnificent and attractive: the hard, thick length was slippery and glistening with pre-cum flowing from the dark pink head, the vein bulging with tension stood out on its velvety girth, and overall, his cock made you inexplicably want to run your tongue over it and taste its flavor. You swallowed loudly, turning your head to the side, a crimson blush of embarrassment mixing with the lust that now filled your veins with something intoxicating and forbidden and spreading across your rounded cheeks. 

Your mouth opened to say something, but you quickly shut it when you noticed that he had raised his perfect eyebrow in a slightly mocking expression. His movements were slow and elegant as he crawled across the bed towards you like some mythical beast. Long fingers wrapped around your ankle before he pulled you towards him until his body was between your spread legs. He towered over you—magnificent, almost divine—making you feel small and fragile. Strands of his long, sakura-colored hair fell around his slender body. His smooth skin shimmered like liquid gold in the soft, diffused light of the candle.

His graceful hand slid up the curve of your thigh, caressing your soft skin where the marks of his possessive touch had already blossomed, and higher and higher until it reached your full breasts. Seonghwa squeezed your breast before running his fingers around the swollen pink nipple. A pitiful moan escaped your lips as his luxurious, juicy lips connected with another hardened bud and sucked it roughly into his hungry, beautiful mouth. You meowed in response, the new kind of stimulation causing you to arch your back in pleasure and unconsciously push your breasts closer to him. He purred velvetily, flicking his tongue over your tender nipple until it was glistening and wet from his attention. 

Without hesitating, the Emperor lifted his knee between your hips, forcing them to spread further apart, allowing him to slip between them. Your hands rose hesitantly and floated in the air for a second before you found them lying on Seonghwa's strong shoulders. His skin felt warm and soft under your fingers. Your body tensed, and a small cry escaped your parted lips as you felt Sonhwa's teeth bite into your chest, and soon a mark resembling a shining crescent moon formed where his teeth had been. Suddenly, the Emperor grabbed hold of your wrists and lifted your arms above your head, restricting your movements and locking you completely into the cage beneath his body. 

"And now you would like to touch me, my little Empress?" Seonghwa grinned grimly. "First of all, I want to take what is rightfully mine, my star. Beg me for it." He let out a growl. Like a dark, forbidden caress, the low, vibrating sound of his voice went through your body. The heavy, velvety length of his cock pressed against the inner side of your thigh. You wanted to run away, to hide from that bottomless, hypnotic gaze of lust and hunger, but at the same time you wanted more of him, to feel everything you'd never felt before. The thought of how Seonghwa would enjoy you, how he would use you for his own pleasure, and how he would make you his own, subjecting you to his will and his power, made you long for that feeling. You desperately wanted to belong to him.

"Please, my Emperor, Seonghwa, take me. I belong to you." You barely managed to whisper the words, but the Emperor was able to hear them clearly. Embarrassed, you turned away from him, exposing your slender, delicate neck. His hot body merged with yours as his head sank into the curve of your neck. The swollen, wet head of his cock pressed against your trembling pussy. He was still holding your wrists tightly above your head, his sharp nails digging into your skin, but your hips were lifting to meet him as Seonghwa moved forward, weakly, and rubbed the head of his cock against your clit. A low, languid moan escaped from his throat as your soft labia parted a little, allowing his cock to slide into the warmth of your wet cunt. 

"You are so impatient, darling. And that's another thing I like about virgins—once they've tasted pleasure, they stop controlling themselves and start asking for more. Look at you; you're so desperate for me to fuck you, little Empress. Can't you wait for my cock to be inside of you?" He looks so smug, his ego shining brightly in his dark eyes, and a lecherous smile has blossomed on his plump lips. Your natural essence thickly coats his thick cock, allowing it to slide easily through your warm folds, the head of his cock touching your sensitive clit with every move he makes. He is laughing at you, at the way your body is haunting him at every moment. Once again, the Emperor is proving you to be right—you really are hungry for more. You want to feel him all over you.

Seonghwa loves the way you look underneath him—your flushed face, wet from the tears you shed earlier from your orgasm, your skin covered with bruises and his bite marks, and of course, your wet little cunt begging to be filled to the brim with his cum. Maybe that's why he can't hold himself back any longer and slowly begins to push his cock into your oozing hole. You moaned loudly as his cock pushed deeper and deeper into you, and although you had been prepared for it, the way his thick girth stretched your silky walls made you squeeze your eyes shut and feel a slight burning sensation. Seonghwa's cock was too big and thick for you, at least for now, but somehow you didn't doubt that he was going to fuck you until you could easily take his whole length at once. 

When his cock was all the way inside of you and his balls were pressed against your plush arse, he let out a guttural, almost growling, moan as he nuzzled his face into the back of your neck. Your cunt was everything he'd imagined—tight and hot and silky—divine. A small shiver of pleasure went through his body as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. Your answering moan was an unrestrained one, grateful for the hot, thick length of it as it displaced your emptiness, stained your chastity, took away your purity, and filled you instead with an insatiable need. 

He hardly gave you time to adjust to the size of his cock before he began fucking you mercilessly. Obscene sounds filled the air with each of his hard and deep thrusts, mingled with your whimpering and long moans, as well as his enthusiastic purring of satisfaction as he tormented you. His warm breath filled your mouth, forming a subtle contrast to the uncompromising demand of his tongue as it penetrated your mouth and tasted you as you moaned and whimpered. Seonghwa feels that he has become a little bit dependent on you and that he will probably never be able to satisfy this hunger that he now has for you. Your slippery pussy tightened around him impatiently and greedily, hot and wet, squeezing him so hard that Seonghwa let out a low moan of pleasure. 

Seonghwa lets go of your hands and wraps the palm of his hand around your thin neck instead, squeezing it lightly. His grip on your throat makes you gasp, and your moans are hoarse and soft.

"You are all mine." He growls, watching as his cock enters and exits your tight, pink cunt, a thick vein stretching along your silken walls with every movement of his beautiful and skilled hips. Seonghwa can't help but marvel at the way your juices are coating the velvety length of his cock as it plunges deep into you. Your hands dig into the sheets, crumpling the fabric between your fingers as you do so. "Who is your husband? Your Emperor? Tell me, my little star!" Seonghwa demands as she presses her fingers around your neck more tightly. 

"Y-y-you!" You screamed, but the sound of your voice was so distorted that it was barely audible. Your thighs began to ache from Seonghwa's relentless thrusts, but you didn't know if you wanted to ask him to stop when his cock kept hitting the most pleasurable spot inside you, making you feel every cell in your body heat up until it was white. Stars started to dance in front of your eyes, exactly the same—mesmerizingly sparkling stars like the ones in Seonghwa's eyes. "Seonghwa, that's you! You are my husband, my Emperor!"

"That's right, you treat me so well, my little Empress. I am going to fuck you until you are swollen with my heirs and until your little pussy is dripping with my cum day and night. My beautiful star, don't you think that we should give the seven great generals a taste of your divine cunt, as well? Let them saturate you, let them breed you, and let them shower you with caresses and praise. They are magnificent lovers, my star—passionate, tireless, and demonic—and they crave you so much. And here's something else you should know about me, my little Empress: I share everything with them—the battlefield, power, life, bed, and of course, I will share you with them, my beautiful wife." Seonghwa stops what he is doing and looks down at your trembling, delicate body lying underneath him. You can feel how his demonic gaze is burning into you before he grabs hold of your waist and quickly forces you down on all fours, lifting your bottom up into the air. His hand slides along the curves of your inner thighs, running his fingers over the warmth of your cunt and oozing sticky nectar. Two slender, long fingers rub your quivering hole, and you clench involuntarily at the tantalizing sensation of his fingers. 

"Say it once more." He orders you as he presses down on your clit and begins to rub it in rapid circles. You let out a shrill cry, your voice echoing through the luxurious imperial chambers. 

"Seonghwa! I am yours. You are my Emperor. You are my magnificent husband."

The Emperor let out a purr in response to your words, which sound silky and almost sinful. He pressed himself against you once more, thrusting his cock inside of you. Your face was pressed against the pillow before a graceful hand pulled your hair and pressed you against his wet, hard chest. He never stopped his hips from moving. His pace was sure and persistent, his lack of mercy cruel to your tender, sensitive cunt that had never known such sensations before, but still you moaned with pleasure. 

"You are going to cum on my cock, my beautiful star." His teeth graze across your ear before Seonghwa bites down on the lobe of your ear.   All of a sudden, his fingers find your swollen clit and make slow half circles over it, stimulating you even more. Immediately, you feel yourself tightening around his thick cock; your mouth falls open, and your lower lip begins to quiver as you feel that sweet tension at the bottom of your belly. Your orgasm is like a starburst of sensations—the pleasure exploding beneath your skin, stinging you like sharp shards of broken stars—and you almost lose yourself in the sensation. You moan so loudly that you swear the servants outside the door can hear you loud and clear, but whether it's the servants or perhaps one of the seven handsome generals, you have no way of knowing. 

Seonghwa lets go of your hair and grabs your waist instead, digging his nails into your flesh until it bleeds. The squishing sound your pussy makes every time his balls slap against the soft plush of your arse draws a deep animal growl from Seonghwa's throat, the great dragon inside him coming out. The warm, sticky liquid slowly seeps out between your thighs as you shiver and melts into Seonghwa's arms as he holds you upright, your head resting on his shoulder. But it doesn't last long. In a second, you're on your back again, facing the godlike Lunar Emperor. 

He stares down at your emaciated face and at the glistening beads of sweat on your brow. His smug smile was devilish and vicious; he spread your legs again, watching the heat of your tiny, squelching cunt as it greedily swallowed his cock. 

"Oh, your pussy is so beautiful, my star. A perfect little cunt to be filled with the emperor's cum, to be a breeding." Seonghwa's words are nothing more than the sweetest praise wrapped in pure sin. 

Holding your breath, your body feeling boneless and tired, you nod recklessly at his words.  

"You will cum again, my star. You're going to scream out my name so loud that everyone in this palace will know just how good a fuck I give you." He lifted one of your legs and pressed it up against the side of your chest. In this new position, you felt stiff and small under the Emperor's exquisitely elegant body, yet your pussy continued to greedily milk his cock. The vulgar, disgusting words that Seonghwa spoke to you in his deep, velvety voice made your head spin around. It made you feel so soft and sweet. 

Seonghwa fucked you in a deep and rough way. You could still feel the remains of your orgasm boiling in your belly—so sensitive, almost painful. As the head of his cock kissed your cervix, your body tensed, and every muscle in your body tightened like a silk ribbon. Yet, as if it's his only purpose in life, Seonghwa continues to split your heart. You roll your eyes, your lips quiver, and your chest shakes with sobs. You look completely fucked up as you lie there, taking everything the Emperor gives you.

"Who do you belong to, little Empress?"

"I-I, yours, Seonghwa..." You let out a gasp as you felt the tingling sensation of a new orgasm flutter around your pussy. Your soft walls clenched hard, almost restricting Seonghwa's movements, contracting and pulsing around his thick cock. 

"Louder!" He crashes his hips into you, your skin reddening where his thighs made contact with yours.  

"S-Seonghwa, I belong to you, only to you... ah!" 

You feel like you're drowning—falling rapidly and irreversibly into the depths of a bottomless ocean of pure pleasure as Seonghwa's fingers press against your swollen, torn clit. Your orgasm is all-consuming—your vision disappears for a second, your breath is trapped in your chest, and all you can hear is the raging roar of the blood in your veins. You scream—piercingly loud—but the sound barely reaches you. You're shaking, your whole body twisting and writhing from the wild intensity of your orgasm as Seonghwa continues fucking you relentlessly. Seonghwa's skilled fingers move over your clit, matching the rhythm of his hips, making your body shake around him as you go through blissful orgasm. Your juices rush between the two of you, spilling over and down the silk of the sheets. 

"I can't... I can't take it anymore. Please, Seonghwa..." You cried out, the tears running freely down the sides of your face.

Seonghwa leaned forward and captured your lips in an incredible kiss, his hips pressing hard against you as he began to pour his cum as deep as he could, savoring how hard and greedily your pussy milked his cock, your silky walls trembling around him. After a few moments, he slips out of your exhausted pussy, lets go of your leg, and lies down next to you on the bed, his head dropping to your chest as he cuddles closer to you, listening to your heart pounding furiously beneath his cheek. The Emperor intertwines your fingers with his own in the most intimate and tender of gestures. Still in a daze, you lie motionless on the bed and allow him to do whatever he wants to you. 

The Great Lunar Dragon is curled up beside you like a purring, cream-fed cat. He looks completely relaxed and peaceful. Your eyes wander aimlessly around the luxurious chambers, trying to collect your thoughts, but it's only for a moment before your eyes widen—frightened and in disbelief—as you meet the gaze of none other than the great, demonically beautiful General Choi San. Your soft scream attracts the attention of Seonghwa, and his eyes are lazily open to see what it is that has upset you so much. 

"Ah, Sannie, you have frightened my star." Seonghwa reluctantly gets up from you and lightly covers your body with the sheet, but it does little to help the situation, as you can feel the general's sultry gaze burning into your skin. "You should have waited until the morning at the very least; you are too impatient, do you know that?"

"My precious Empress made a sound that was too tempting for me to resist, Hwa. I am nothing more than a male slave of my most beautiful mistress." San purred, got up, and crept towards the bed like a big cat of prey. He moves clean and elegantly, and you can't help but be enchanted by what you're seeing. But the spell is broken as soon as you feel the bed begin to sag under the weight of his body. In an attempt to shrink and hide your body from this breathtakingly handsome man, you pull your legs up. Seonghwa notices this and gently puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and giving you a light kiss on the cheek. 

"My star, you have no need to be afraid of San; he is as gentle as a kitten. You will have fun playing with him, I assure you." Seonghwa's voice was like melting honey on your skin, and you wished you could relax, but the whole situation was just wild; this is totally not how you expect a first wedding night to go. "But first we need to bathe, and then we can go and play again, my little Empress; the night is still so young." Seonghwa literally sings, letting you go and moving around the bed until she is next to San. You watch in silence as the emperor's plump, sensual lips touch the sharp cheekbone of the general for a moment before he rises from the bed and pulls a silk robe over his naked body. "I trust everything has been prepared." It is clear that the question is not directed at you. 

"Of course it has; Wooyoung and Yeosang have taken care of it." San extends his hand to you. It is the same inviting gesture that General Jung used before leading you to Seonghwa's chambers. "Come with me, my precious Empress. Your servants are waiting to please their mistress." 

[aphroditelovesu]

The Bloody Viscount - I

— summary: You had fallen in love with Viscount Bridgerton and he had fallen in love with you. The marriage seemed perfect, but then why did Anthony Bridgerton always come home late and bloodstained?

— gender: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, kidnapping, angst, fluffy, dub-con (?), possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!anthony bridgerton x female!reader.

— word count: +1,634.

— tag list: @will-delete-this-later-probably, @cayt0123, @flowercrowns-goodvibes, @czarinera

— prologue; chapter 2;

Chapter 1

''Dear and gentle readers,

Another social season begins and the bustle of the city returns with new marriage opportunities. Mothers desperate to find a good match for their daughters and singles looking for a suitable bride.

It is indeed a confusion, but one that will become more so after information has reached this author that Viscount Bridgerton is looking for a wife. Who will be the young woman who will hold this rake's attention?''

Chronicles of the Society of Lady Whistledown, April 26, 1813.

You threw the flyer on the floor when your mom came into the room. She frowned at you and you gave a guilty smile.

''(Y/N) you know I hate it when you read those gossip flyers.'' Your mother scolded you as she sat next to you on the couch.

''Sorry Mom, I just... I was curious.'' You muttered under your breath, aware of the scolding looks she was sending you.

''I've told you countless times, a lady shouldn't read too much.'' You watched your mother pick a biscuit from the plate and eat it with grace. You shrugged your shoulders at that sight. Your mother had always been a graceful woman even though she had low status, she acted like a real lady and that bothered you.

It bothered you because you knew you would never be as perfect as she was.

''I know! It's just...'' You thought quickly, ''Did you know that Viscount Brigderton is looking for a wife?'' Your mother's eyes brightened immediately.

You regretted her words the moment they left your mouth.

''Oh really? This is wonderful!'' Your mother's normally cold eyes turned gentle and warm. That wasn't a good sign, it was never a good sign.

You frowned and picked up the gossip pamphlet, wanting to get back to your reading. Your mother looked at you with disdain and took it from your hand.

''Mom!'' You protested.

''Silence! I'm reading.'' She grumbled, looking at you reproachfully. You huffed and sank down onto the couch, crossing your arms and sighing.

You didn't say another word to your parents until the next day. Not even at dinner which was always a hostile and uncomfortable moment where you felt more judged than ever.

You would never get used to Lady Danbury's balls.

You didn't have many certainties in your life at the moment, but you knew you'd never get used to how well planned they were.

You looked around and smiled weakly. The whole hall was decorated according to the tastes of its owner, ornate flowers, musicians, drinks and all dressed in impeccable ways. And, to make everything fancy, there was the Queen present. Looking at everyone with judgments and maybe looking for her diamond.

The ladies wore graceful and beautiful dresses, some more fortunate ones used jewels in their dresses. Jewels adorned them, you didn't fail to notice Lady Cressida Cowper showing off her neck adorned with a ruby necklace given to her by the new Lord Featherington.

And the gentlemen were dressed alike, you noticed. Or almost. Stylish suits and what complemented them very well.

And there was you. You looked pretty, that's what you'd been told and what you'd seen in the mirror, but you were wearing something more modest. Without much adornment, small and discreet earrings, a diamond necklace that had belonged to your grandmother and your hair done in a simple hairstyle but that left your features visible.

You thought you were pretty and you thought you looked pretty, but seeing the other ladies, you can't help but feel a little insecure.

Your fingers tightened on the hem of your dress, and if you hadn't been wearing gloves, you might have seen them turn white. You took a deep breath and looked around, amusement passed through your body when you noticed a group of young people and their mothers surrounding some poor man.

But when you realized who the poor man was your breath got deeper. As if you were desperate for air.

Viscount Bridgerton.

Your eyes met Viscount Brigderton's and you felt your face heat up as you felt the intensity he was staring at you.

He was an attractive man, you had to confess. And it wasn't the way he looked, sure, he was handsome, but the look in his eyes was what stunned you. The passion they conveyed put you to shame.

And the fact that eyes were thrown in his direction made you even more cornered. Looking away to a random spot on the ball, you smiled as you watched the couples dancing and people chatting and gossiping.

You turned to your mother, who was watching all the men at the party carefully, sizing them up. You mentally rolled your eyes at that, she was so determined to find you a husband that she didn't even ask you what you wanted.

It's not that you didn't want to get married, you wanted and would like to have a family one day, but... You didn't know how to deal with all that. This was his first season and your mother, Lady (L/N), seemed very committed to getting a good match for you.

And it wasn't for your happiness, you noticed.

It was to raise your family's social status. As the only child, it was your responsibility to improve your parents' lives. It was your duty and something you'd been raised to do since birth.

Raised to become a proper wife.

Your education, your tastes, everything that was taught to you should correspond to the tastes of your future husband. And your mother had been pretty strict about it. Your dad was more relaxed, but he always made his expectations of you clear.

Your mother's eyes turned to the Viscount and you felt like hiding. She looked him up and down, he was talking to an older woman, who you assumed was Lady Violet Bridgerton. His mother.

You watched your mother straighten her posture and start walking across the room, towards the Viscount. Your face got even redder because you knew what your mother would do.

What she always did. She would start babbling about you and your skills and what she thought you liked. How good and sweet you were, how motherly you were.

You mentally sneered and frowned when you saw your mother coming, accompanied by Lady and Viscount Bridgerton. You looked away quickly and turned so you could flee, when the Viscount's deep, sensual voice called out to you.

''Lady (Y/N) (L/N)?''

A shiver ran down your spine at the tone that had your name coming out of his mouth and you mentally scolded yourself. You straightened your posture and turned to face him.

You bowed slightly, lowering your head in submission, as your mother had taught you, and looked into his dark eyes.

''Lord Bridgerton.'' You smiled weakly, ''It's a pleasure to meet you, milord.''

You could have sworn you saw him wince at the title and his eyes darken even further.

Lord Bridgerton took your gloved left hand and pressed a kiss to it. Your body involuntarily shuddered at the touch, you bit your lower lip discreetly and felt your cheeks redden with the shame you felt.

''The pleasure is all mine.'' He released your hand gently. ''Would you do me the honor of a dance?''

You could have sworn your heart stopped at that moment.

And that you had heard a sound like a scream come out of your mother's throat.

But you smiled at him and bowed, ''Of course.''

You extended your hand to him and he took it. Lord Bridgerton guided you to the center of the dance floor. You stopped facing each other and when the music started, he started leading you in a classical dance.

You were uncomfortable with the intensity he was staring at you, but you tried to push it aside and focus on his footsteps.

''Nervous?'' He asked and you quickly denied it. He laughed a little and for a moment you thought he was laughing at you.

Amused, he continued to talk to you as you danced, ''I've never seen you at any of Lady Danbury's balls…''

''It's my first season.'' You replied, looking into his eyes.

''I see.'' Lord Bridgerton whirled you around and brought you into his strong arms again. ''You must be looking forward to getting married then.'' It wasn't a question but you answered it like one anyway.

''I am...''

''Anyone in mind?''

You blinked in surprise and answered uncomfortably, ''No... I don't think so.''

''Would you like to have children? When and how many?''

''Yes I would like. Not sure when and how many, but considerable time after the wedding and an amount that pleases both me and my husband would be well received.''

The Viscount hummed and you continued to dance in silence. When the song came to an end, you pulled apart and you bowed to him and he did the same.

''Thank you for the dance, milord.'' You lowered your head and waved at him.

''I thank you, Lady (Y/N)(L/N).'' Lord Bridgerton kissed your hand once more and smiled lovingly. He whispered inaudibly, ''I hope to see you again.''

You blushed at the tone and what it meant. Perhaps you had just captivated a Viscount.

You wanted to say something else, but he had already left. You looked around and saw your mother talking animatedly to Lady Violet. You sighed and were about to go to her when the Queen's voice rang out.

She would finally announce who would be her diamond.

You noticed all the young ladies looking anxious, as well as the gentlemen.

''My choice for this season's diamond is...'' The Queen made a cliffhanger and everyone held their breath, she smiled and looked in her direction, ''Lady (Y/N)(L/N).''

You could have passed out at that point.

— lady l: and the news came out that the world didn't believe!! I'm really sorry for the delay of the chapter! I had it ready for weeks but I couldn't post it because of my computer and because of other projects, however, I'll try to update this fanfic weekly! I promise to try :). I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

[brokenheartsrecords]

track one: oranges and lemonade and stuffy ballrooms words: 1.44K tw: none

YOU DO NOT REALLY WANT to attend a ball filled with pompous aristocrats and people your mother considers eligible bachelors. And you certainly do not want to spend time dancing with men who would rather talk about themselves and cotton rather than ask you about your interests.

A sorrowful situation, your mother says, shaking her head with that matchmaking smile on her face. You know what she’s planning as you pull on your gloves and adjust the neckline of your gown—wasn’t it a bit too low for a ball?—and play with the wings of your feather-braided fan. 

The mask on your face, however, doesn’t require much adjustment, partially because it was already fixed in place, with the strings intertwined in your elaborate hairstyle, and partially because there were teardrop-shaped sapphires hanging from the edge of the mask. It would be a shame if you shifted the entire visor and ended up having the sapphires hang over your ears instead of where they lay upon your cheek.

The irony of your costume was not lost on you—the spinster wearing a weeping widow’s gown. Your mother and the dressmaker had a sense of humour.

“Look at him over there—Lord Castor. He’s a fine man, but has a love for gambling. If you marry him, you might have to live in a house that slowly loses all the decorations because of it.”

“Mama, I am not marrying him. I heard his years at Oxford only led to his skill at arithmetic being diminished rather than enriched.”

Your mother hits the back of your hand with her fan. “You mustn't say such things in public, darling.” She purses her lips, and then lowers her voice. “I heard he mistook his father’s new bride for his illegitimate daughter.”

You snort. “She’s young enough to look like a daughter more than that old man’s bride.”

“Oh, I pity her.” Mama says, sigh apparent in her voice. “I do not want you to end up the same way, which is why I push you towards the eligible men who are nearest to your age. Like that Mr. Richards.”

“I danced with almost everyone here at every single ball, Mama. And you know that Mr. Richards has a difficult mother.”

“How about Sir Adams?”

“His spoken English is abysmal at best.”

“You cannot expect to find a scholar in every individual.”

“I should hope that my husband should at least be able to carry an intelligent conversation with me, no, Mama?”

She sighs, her eyes catching on the rapidly approaching host of the ball. “There she comes, Ms. Skye. I’ve always disliked her— Ms. Skye! What a lovely ball you’ve put together.”

Ms. Skye laughs. “I did not expect you to accept my invitation, dearest Lady. I can only assume you’re here to hunt for your son-in-law.”

“If you would’ve assumed anything else, you would be sorely mistaken, Ms. Skye. I never asked, how are your grandchildren?”

The woman flicks her hand. “They’re being difficult, like every child is.”

“I would’ve understood that, of course, but I must say, my daughter was an angel when she was a baby.”

You hide your face behind your fan. Angel, of course you were one. You definitely weren’t like satan’s spawn at birth and in your childhood.

Mama continues. “How are your other sons?”

“Jamie is courting the daughter of a second son, can you believe it? I always pushed him towards girls with a better background, but what’s happened has happened. She’s a pain sometimes—no, often. Xander is still working under that physicist at Oxford, and Gray is yet unmarried. I tell him all the time that I might not live too long, and that I would love to see him married, but he seems rather fixed upon remaining a bachelor for the rest of his life.”

“My daughter is almost the same way, Ms. Skye. Every man I show her, she finds a way to reject him! He either wasted his years at Oxford, smells like fish, or has a fondness for the drink. I doubt I will be finding her a husband any time soon.”

The two women giggle, and you are starting to get tired of the conversation. 

“Mama? May I be excused? I promise I shall be right by the refreshments.” You say, hoping your mother will let you go.

With a nod, she says she’ll come find you later, and you walk towards the lemonade. The neckline feels lower than usual, and it feels exceedingly hot in this room filled with stuffy aristocrats.

And the lemonade is warming. Just your luck. 

You take a sip out of it anyway, and take a look at the dancers in front of you. Happy couples and then couples who dance just for show.

And then you, standing at the side, with not even one man you wish you could dance with.

Bored, you take a look at the doors, thinking if it would be so bad if you decided to take your carriage home right now, without waiting for your mother.

She’d be furious, of course, but could she fault you?

A figure stalks towards the doors, and you straighten your back, putting the lemonade down on the table. They seem to be in a hurry, either to get away from someone…

Or to meet someone.

Curiosity ignited, you walk to the doors and walk out of the doors.

Briefly, you consider the consequences of this action of yours. If that figure was a male, and it looked like it was, with the waistcoat and breeches, and if someone discovered the two of you together, it would mean one of two things.

One, a forced marriage to save your reputation. Your mother would turn it into a sign, saying that God sent you this opportunity so that you don’t have to resort to spinsterhood for the coming years of your life. Two, blackmail the witness before they manage to bring anyone else to multiply the number of witnesses.

You stop by the gates of the orangery, asking yourself if this is really worth it.

Three seconds later, you’re opening the doors of the orangery and stepping inside.

There’s a man at the corner of the room, holding shears in his hands and slowly removing oranges from the tree, later placing them in a basket.

He pauses in his movements, and you notice that he’s abandoned his coat as it hangs from a coat rack at the doors.

“Jamie, I do not wish to speak with you at the moment. And if Skye is looking for me, tell her to bother Nash instead.”

You walk towards the man with the shears. Your footsteps resonate throughout the orangery, and the man pauses in his movements again. 

“Did you not hear me?”

You take a breath. “I am not your brother, or your mother for that matter. I just wanted to know who you are.”

You see a peek of blond hair as the man puts the shears down on the table. “I beg your pardon, madam?”

He steps out from behind the tree, eyebrows furrowed, his eyes an icy grey. He is, quite possibly, the most beautiful man you’ve ever looked at. 

“I’ve never seen you before.” You say, ignoring him.

“I rarely go to dances. Who are you?”

You almost give him your name, before you decide against it. It’s inappropriate to give an introduction without your mother present.

Nearly as inappropriate as being alone with a man of a marriageable age without a chaperone.

As if coming to the same realisation, his eyebrows furrow even more. “You shouldn't be here, not without a chaperone.”

You shrug and go to the table, picking up the shears. “I doubt anyone will wish to come to an orangery when there’s a ball inside the house.”

“But you came. Someone might’ve followed you.”

“If they did, they did. I know almost everyone’s secrets, and blackmail always works.”

His eyebrows relax, and you see a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes. “Any reason you sought to escape to the orangery?”

You open your mouth, but you hear the doors slam open.

And that is when you register just how close you and the blond man are. Two more steps and your chests would be touching.

The new arrival looks at the two of you, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. 

You know him, at least. From all those balls he attends where he dances with the girl Skye had dismissed as the daughter of a second son.

Jameson Hawthorne.

And he’s a witness to what looks like a secret rendevous between two lovers.

[soundspeachytome]

from this day forward - shohei ohtani au

a wedding au where shohei and female reader have broken up and anywhere within shohei's 5-foot radius is molten lava

special mentions: lars nootbar as the couple's best friend

trope: friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again, second chance, a bit of forced proximity, fluff

word count: 4560 words

other notes: started out as angst but decided towards a more peaceful resolution

written under the influence of 1989 the vault tracks. thank you mother taylor for your genius brain.

=======================================

The next time you'd see Shohei Ohtani was in a wedding ceremony. He would be wearing an expensive grey suit and a tie in oxford blue that you've picked up for him months before. His thick dark hair would've been waxed and slicked back showing more of his forehead. If it had been last spring, that hairstyle would not have lasted as your fingers would tug the back of his head while he stole you kisses at the security of someone's bathroom sink, locked away in the gentle murmur that both escaped your lips. You'd be late and attracting a lot of stares from the guests and terse expressions from the bride and groom, definitely knowing your shenanigans. Instead, you came here alone, at the demand of your best friend and bride, Jessica, agreeing to meet up with the rest of the entourage. Your absolute consolation would be rubbing elbows with some of Jessica's celebrity friends, being a celebrity herself, and eating expensive food. For free. You'd be seeing Shohei too, yes, since he used to be in Jessica's social circle through you, only this time, you'd be alone.

You clutched your drawstring purse tightly and made a beeline towards the mobile bar that served drinks. If you'd have to go through this entire ordeal while nursing your broken heart--in a wedding reception, no less--you might as well get plastered.  

In the last summer that you've spent with Shohei Ohtani, you realized it wasn't all rainbows and sunshine. Although the relationship did start as a one-night stand and friendly banter, you caught yourself falling deep for him. You believed he did too as he spent more and more time in your apartment and called you often despite being out of town for the season.

You knew the consequences being involved with him like that but as if under a spell, you ignored the red flags that came with being his lover. One of them being constantly reminded of public pressure and opinion. Not even being a hotshot professor with a PHD in Creative Writing and Literature in a prominent university could save you from criticism. Being the golden boy of Japanese baseball had its repercussions. The media's constant prodding into your relationship took a toll on you since the beginning. You don't like attracting attention to yourself. You were quite the private person, so was Shohei. He only answered questions about his work in the big leagues, in respect to your wishes. So why did it feel like a betrayal when he actually dodged the media when they playfully inject questions about your not-so-secret secret? Why did it feel like a denial when he could've acknowledged the relationship like a normal person at least once? But Shohei was not a normal person, and you knew that. He was special beyond imagination and you wouldn't want to do anything that would ruin his reputation, much like his chances to appease both Western and Japanese media. 

Secondly, when his dedicated fanbase learned about you being in Shohei's life, they went rabid. They found your social media accounts despite having a vague name handle on Instagram; you didn't even have your personal photo on your profile. But they were scarily smart, his fans. They figured out your cryptic photos and captions that aligned to the locations Shohei was recorded to be at (and those were your actual short quiet dates around town during his free days). You had to ironically laugh out loud once, when it all suddenly happened, an unspeakable number of notifications flooding your phone, messages you couldn't ever dream o tf ever receiving.

"Are you sure you're Shohei's girlfriend??? you don't look like Shohei's type at all."

"Girl, you're constantly with Shohei recently? Are you a stalker pretending to be his girl for attention?"

"This girl in her delulu era lmao"

It took you all the restraint in your body to reply to these anonymous accounts, convincing yourself it was not worth it. You knew with every fiber of your being that showing off Shohei Ohtani as your boyfriend was worth every malicious comment sent to you, but you didn't. You never did. You never mentioned this to him despite the anxiety eating you alive. For you, at that time, as long as you have him tangled in bedsheets, in the quietest moments, the clamor of the world outside did not matter. 

Of course, you were wrong again. Much like every out of the ordinary couple, it was destined to fail. It did not take long until he got frustrated with your frustrations. It also affected your work. More and more students gossiped and faculty bullied you into oblivion. But why couldn't you tell him anything? Why wouldn't you show him how heavy carrying the relationship has started to feel? The thing is, you didn't feel like you should demand anything more, that being with him was already a blessing and demanding more means being greedy.

One night when both of you were coming off from a sugar high after eating too much cookie dough from Target, your head lay on his arms and his face pressed against yours. You laid there in bed with him in the silence, except for the rapid beating of your heart against his chest. You prayed for moments like this, and now it's happening. You love this. You love hi--

"I think I love you." you blurted out.

"Hmm?" he doesn't lift his head and continued to lay there, voice sounding sleepy as ever.

"I think... I think I'm in love with you, Sho." you whispered. "I like you more than the first date. It's just something I felt a while back..." you rambled on waiting for a response and when you tried to unentangle yourself from his hold, he suddenly tightened his embrace, beckoning you to stay still under the covers. He started lightly snoring after a few minutes.

He heard it, right? You thought he had fallen asleep but he heard you.

So why didn't he say it back?

"You gave up on him, remember?" You said to yourself as you sipped your first glass of raspberry limoncello prosecco. "So stop acting like he owes you anything. Not even an explanation or closure, Y/N."

You caught your faint reflection on the sliding glass door right beside the mobile bar. You were wearing a blue satin dress you bought for this wedding. The neckline going lower than when you first tried it on, revealing a bit of your cleavage. The dress also has a bonus feature: the maxi dress has a slit that stops just below your right thigh. You originally bought this at the same with Shohei's tie. You thought you'd surprise him with how sexy the dress was, and with you wearing it, you could only imagine his reaction. You sighed, as you took one last look on your dress, you noticed a familiar face nearing from behind you.

"Are you sure you're not trying to get him back with that dress?" Lars Nootbar loomed from behind, grinning, eyeing the skirt.

"It would need me more than a seductive dress to get him back, Lars." You scoffed. "Besides, I'm not that drunk yet." You proudly raised your half full glass of prosecco. Lars, your best friend and wingman, who was unfortunate enough to get caught in the Cold War (Pre-Break-Up Phase), down to the Great Depression (Post-Break Up Phase) and had to be there for the both of you, separately. Poor old Lars couldn't pick a side between his two besties, that he had to go back and forth between spending his time comforting you while you went on a How I Met Your Mother rabbithole while eating only salty snacks and leftover cake; and Shohei dragging him to go on a 5-mile jog almost every morning and deadlifting more than 400lbs lbs to "bulk up for the next season". Shohei knew that Lars could smell through his bullshit. Lars gave no comment every time he suggested something crazy during their workouts, or tried to talk him out of it. He was also tightlipped on how both of you were dealing with the break up, and for that, you and Shohei were grateful. 

"Well, I'll keep my radar on in case you start hysterical crying during the reception."

"Good call. Maybe tie a leash around my ankles while you're at it." you rolled your eyes and he sniggered, revealing his dimples. 

"Lars, I swear to God, I just want to go through this wedding without breaking down. The good thing is our breakup is already out in the open, so he's walking the aisle last with his new, equally-tall, bridesmaid partner, who also happens to be a model for Vogue Japan." you said a matter-of-factly.

"Did you do your research on the bridesmaids, Miss FBI?" said Lars. It was only a matter of coping that you stalked all the women he has spent time with in social events. This wedding is no different, you thought. You just wanted to know if he had moved on with another fling. If he already replaced you that quick, then it would make you feel more vindicated when you presumed he didn't love you and fight for you at all. 

"The internet is an amazing thing. I know now how his fans got so obsessed with hunting me down."

"Did you run out of TV series to binge on that you're now stalking your ex?" said Lars. He was smiling but his eyes showed a slight worry in his expression.

"Someone's got to fill in the role of the crazy ex, you know." you joked. "Don't worry, big guy, I'm not going to have a relapse after just one wedding."

He eyed you dolefully. "I'll keep an eye on you, lady."

"There he is! Our MVP!" someone shouts. Suddenly a number of guests flocked towards the end of the hall, clapping and greeting Shohei Ohtani, who just entered the reception with Ippei Mizuhara, his trusty friend and interpreter. He smiled politely and greeted everyone as he tried to find his way towards the crowd, eyes scanning the place.

"Ooh... He came without a date. Interesting turn of events--" commented Lars, about to say a joke but was interrupted when you swiveled on your feet so fast, you could've been a Yo-yo. Lars let out a loud laugh, inviting a few looks from nearby guests. Your back facing them, sipping your prosecco nervously, and pretending your Midnight Blue marble nail art is more interesting than Baseball star, Shohei Ohtani (who inconsequentially just happens to be your ex-lover. NBD.)

"Shut up and stop looking at him!" you hissed. 

Lars chuckled and before he could say anything more, the wedding coordinator's voice boomed into the speakers. "Entourage, come forward please."

"Oh, fantastic. Here we go." You downed your remaining drink and took Lars by the arm. 

By the time you got to the entourage queue, someone called your name.

"Y/N as bridesmaid, come here please." Linda, the wedding coordinator in a stunning dress suit and pants called out. You went to her, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone else. Everyone was probably gossiping how you and Shohei didn't arrive together, or why you have your arms linked with Lars instead of his. You tried brushing it off but the guests' side glances really bothered you.

"Groomsmen, Shohei Ohtani. Stand beside Y/N, please." 

It must've been the wine because you thought you were hearing things. You chuckled to yourself. You thought Linda called--

"Shohei Ohtani, stand here, please!" Linda was waving at Shohei, who was at the back of the line to come forward and pointing at the space beside you. It took you a couple of seconds to realize what it all meant. Your eyes turned around to look for Lars. He was 2 rows behind you and reciprocated your panicked gaze. 

"Um, Linda, there must've been a mis--" You started but were immediately cut off when Shohei came to your side. 

"We're good, Linda. Thank you." He smiled politely and shook his head at me. You could only look back in disbelief.

"Didn't you say you'd have the list updated with Jessica?" You blurted out.

"I did."

"So?" Your voice raising. Shohei gave you a furtive look. He stood closer and offered his arm. All those mental preparations you had planned went down the drain as soon as you stood close to him.

"I couldn't." He started.

"I know I should have. When we split up, I always thought we would get back together so I put off telling Jessica about the breakup... and changing the list... would be... Pointless."

"You act as if you did something to prevent the breakup." you said bitterly. "Let's just get this over with and move on to our separate ways, okay?"

He looked pained when he searched your eyes, hoping you could return his gaze. You didn't and only looked straight ahead. You knew he was looking at you. You knew he was trying to say something more but couldn't. You knew that if you looked at him and saw his sad brown eyes, you'd go soft and all those months of trying to get him out of your system would all be for nothing. You're able to stand up now because you chose not to wait for him anymore. Don't go searching for a reason to look back now. 

You swallowed hard. Making a big deal out of this would only draw flak from other guests and with especially with Jessica. It's her day after all. No time for any of your meltdowns. The last thing you wanted to do is make a scene in the presence of Shohei. Especially in front of Shohei, so you put on your big girl shoes on and took his arm to walk down the aisle. You silently die inside as you gripped his biceps hard against your hand. 

Oh god, this is going to be a long day, you groaned inwardly.

The wedding ceremony went surprisingly quick. The bridesmaids were seated separately from the groomsmen on the opposite side of the hall. Once you and Shohei reached the end of the aisle, you immediately let go of his arm and walked towards the bridesmaids' table without glancing at him; Shohei did the same and walked as fast and normal as he could, trying to steady himself being near you after months of separation.

When the host announced the newly weds' entrance, you were already on your second flute of champagne. Of course, you didn't pass up the opportunity to taste the petite crab cakes and tuna tartare from the appetizers. You busied stuffing your mouth with as much food as you could so there wasn't any room for conversation. In between bathroom breaks and buttermilk biscuit refills, you'd spot someone you knew from you and Jessica's school, or from Shohei's circle, stopping by to say a quick hi. Of course, you'd exchange curt greetings and you braced yourself when it spins to the impending question.

"So sad to hear about you and Shohei, dear." one of the guests, Mrs. Nakamoto, approached you with her wine glass. She dazzled every time the lights caught the rhinestone jewelry adorned all over her neck.

"I'm okay, Mrs. Nakamoto, thank you for your concern." you faked a smile and responded with the lines you have rehearsed a hundred times in front of the mirror.

"Couples fight, that's normal. Fighting means you want to fix things." she said, looking at you. "Don't be too mad at him anymore. He loves you, you know."

You look at her, bewildered. "I don't quite under--"

"He spoke to the media and asked to give you privacy." she winked. "Oh to be young and in love. Makes you fearless, don't you think? The fans were not happy though. Have you seen it yet?" she asked pointedly when she saw your blank expression.

You had no idea what she was babbling about. It could be the wine, or probably some tabloid news she heard from the grapevine. You intend to correct this but as if Mrs. Nakamoto could read your mind, she interrupted your thoughts before you could open your mouth.

"He won't go far to scold his fans if he doesn't want to protect you and your relationship, you know." she winked and with that she floated away with her twinkling diamonds, leaving you utterly shocked. Scolded his fans? Since when did Shohei talk about his personal life in front of the press? Mrs. Nakamoto must've been mistaken. The world would be ending and he would only talk about baseball more than anything.

You tried following Mrs. Nakamoto but she had already disappeared into the crowd. Lars came into view, dimples on display and cheeks flushed from all the dancing, probably.

"Hey, sweet pea. Having fun on your own?" he asked.

"Just about to." you took a swig of your last champagne and dragged Lars into the dancefloor. He quickly noted the change of music and started dancing.

"I love this song!" you exclaimed as I Don't Wanna Dance With Somebody started playing in the background. You were swaying your hips and singing the song word by word, not a care in the world. For the first time tonight, were actually enjoying yourself.

It took 3 songs until Lars called timeout. His face flushed and sweaty from keeping up with you, almost heaving.

"Man, do you already have weak knees at that age?" you giggled and tried to hold on to him thinking he might suddenly collapse from exhaustion.

"I think I actually do, dude. I'll remember not to underestimate you on Just Dance." he was looking at something from behind you, as if looking for someone.

"If you want to sit down, we can sit down back there--"

The music switched up and suddenly a slow song started. Grow Old With Me by Tom Odell.

Lars took your hand and led you into the middle of the dancefloor. Unknowingly, you followed along. He might've already recovered and want to dance more. He is your partner in crime tonight, after all. Whatever confusing feelings you felt after talking to Mrs. Nakamoto earlier has been swept away from your mind. At least momentarily.

And then it happened too fast, you didn't have the time to process what was happening. One moment you were holding Lars' hand, now you're facing Shohei, his right hand slithered to your back, and the other on yours, leading the dance. He thanks Lars and Lars taps his back, retreating back into the dancefloor as if he nothing happened. Of course, he is also Shohei's best friend and wingman. Of course, he'd do this. He is definitely going to hear a lot from you once you get back at him.

Shohei pulls you harder to him, shaking your attention from Lars to him. Only him. He's looking at you and you're looking at him like it was a dream. Or a nightmare. You couldn't decide because his perfume invaded your system and is causing your mind to stop working.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"That dress is so revealing, Y/N." he finally said after a few moments.

"Wow. That's none of your business." You snapped, annoyed now. What a way to break the spell. "I didn't wear this for you."

"Hoping you could bring a date home tonight?" he said, voice low.

Oh, he did not. The worst thing he could do is provoke you on a night like this. Not when you're on the brink of alcohol intoxication. Your mouth runs everywhere when you're drunk.

"Why does that concern you? I can because I'm single anyway. You should try it too."

"Who said I was single?" Shohei looked pissed off now. As much as you want to escape, as someone with Scorpio rising, you just want to play with fire.

"Oh, you did you replace me with? Was it the Vogue Japan model? Or the badminton player during the gala?" you pushed.

The look on his face gave you chills on your bones. Oh, he was angry angry.

"I'm starting to think you believe what the tabloids wrote more than what I ever told you in the past."

"What did you ever tell me, Sho? I'm curious. I don't think I ever heard you say anything reassuring." You don't want to go through this anymore, no matter how pissed off you feel. You just want to go home and take a long warm bath while listening to your sad breakup playlist.

You let go of Shohei's hand and stopped dancing. You turned your heel and walked towards the exit, in the middle of the wedding band's rendition of Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley. 

At the corner of your eye, you saw Lars dancing and flirting with one of the bridesmaids. He noticed you but you waved him off, stopping him. If he was enjoying the night, you shouldn't drag him along with him. He has already done so much for you. You can handle this on your own tonight.

You shivered as soon as you stepped outside the hall. You let a light wind breeze through you as you walked around the garden path, lost in your own thoughts. You mentally smack yourself for forgetting to bring a coat again. It was a cold evening and you no longer have Shohei to keep you warm. And you were always so cold. You'll have to get used to bringing your own coats again. You, who has always been okay being alone pre-Shohei days, would have to wake up without his good morning texts again. Dining alone. Sleeping alone. Watching movies alone. 

Walking aimlessly in the garden, you remembered your conversation with Mrs. Nakamoto and fished your phone from your purse. You knew it was not a good idea to be watching his interview videos anymore but curiosity killed you. You googled his latest interview video and pressed play.

The interview started with the usual introductions and questions about baseball and his performance from the last game. He answered them attentively and politely. Then, a reporter suddenly asked him about you.

"Since you are attending Jessica Thuy's wedding next week, do you have plans on addressing if you and Y/N are gonna be endgame? Or has the fans scared her off already?" the reporters' laughter was heard on the recording. Ippei, who had been within shot the whole time, looked like he wanted Shohei to ignore the question but Shohei grunted and gave the cameras a sarcastic smile.

"I thank the fans for their constant support of my games and schedules. I'm grateful, really. But they don't have a say on who I fall in love with." The crowd went quiet, waiting for him to say more. He gave in and indeed more, much to their delight. "The woman I'm in love with is a very private person. It took me a long time to get to know her because she's always had her nose buried in a book. She gets super chatty when she talks about the things she is passionate about. She would not, for the life of me, stop talking about astrology. She once cried when she learned that Manatees are endangered species. She has a laugh that the fans commented negatively about. I find her laugh the most adorable thing I've ever heard and I don't want to live in a life where I don't hear it ever. I hope the fans respect that. Thank you." It was as if the wind was sucked by a vacuum and got sealed elsewhere. Even Ippei was speechless. He couldn't believe Shohei said that in front of the media. He was fighting for you. He finally set his boundaries.

He signaled the end of the interview and went out of frame just in time for the video to end.

You turned around to go back to the reception but saw Shohei standing behind you, his face glistened with a wistful expression. You stood there with tears in your eyes. That interview sounded like a confession of love and now you want to hear more.

"When you left I really thought you brought all the sunshine with you. Literally... It was always raining in our games." He said. "In my heart, too. It's true. I don't ever want to live in a life where I don't have you, Y/N."

"I figured the best way to get you back was this wedding, since you know, you've blocked me everywhere. You even told the receptionist in your apartment to never let me in." he pouted.

"And about that night... I was embarrassed because you said it first. I thought that when I'd finally say it, it would be after I plan the craziest, most beautiful date ever. You know, private restaurant reservation, red roses, fireworks, all the jazz. I wanted to give you that much." he chucked darkly to himself. "I know now that I have been the biggest asshole to let that moment slip away and let you go without bringing up a fight. I should have said it right then and there. Fireworks or no fireworks."

You went through a rollercoaster of emotions over his speech. After watching the video, you wanted to storm back to the reception and confront him, angry because it made you feel ashamed at what the both of you had to go through in the last couple of weeks. Now you just want to laugh out loud at how this has unfolded.

"Fireworks?" you squeaked, wiping tears that threatened to fall from the sides of your eyes.

"Well, they're a bit romantic...don't you think?" he said shyly, looking down. You finally burst in a loud, belly laugh.

"You idiot. Come here."

Shohei took huge strides to get to you, smiling widely. You forgot how much he towered over your small frame. You had to strain your neck to look up at him. "I hope it's not too late to say it. I don't have the fireworks though. I didn't get to plan if this cornering-you-in-the-wedding thing is going to work out... And as for the tabloids, I--"

You went on your tiptoes and pulled his face to yours. "Stop talking."

You gave him a light peck at first, testing the waters. He returned the kiss with more pressure, as if trying to catch up with lost time. He put his hands on your waist and pushed his body towards you with so much fervor. This time, his movements became needy, frantic even. As if any moment from now, you'd disappear again.

He held the nape of your neck and pulled you closer, opening your mouth with his tongue. He licked the insides of your mouth, making you shiver with pleasure. A moan escaped your lips and you held on to his shoulders tightly. Both of you are lost in the kiss, pulling and pushing each other's bodies like molding clay, hoping that after this, you come out as one body, one soul and one heart.

You only parted when you needed to breathe for air, foreheads touching. You're both needy now, desperate for more of his touch. Anywhere that he hasn't touched feels on fire. His hand wandered through your clothed chest and squeezed your breast tightly, earning another moan from you. You let your leg stroke his middle and felt him harden, all while your hands pinched his ass. He grunted a noise and gave you a hungry look. Anything that you've thought before this moment has been forgotten. You remembered how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him.

"I love you, Y/N. I'm sorry I took so long to say it." Shohei finally broke the kiss and looked at you. "Fuck, that feels so good. You don't know how happy I am that I could finally say that. I love you."

You too couldn't imagine a better moment for him to say it.

Fireworks or no fireworks.

[mariaxxxxx]

Chapter 5 - The pleasure and pain you offer me ( +18)

Summary: To save your nation You are given as a bride to a sea god.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

A/N: Reader is heavily implied to be Mexican but i tried to keep it as free to the imagination as possible

A/N: Hi people! I hope you haven't abandoned me. I apologize for taking so long to post the new chapter. I underwent a medical procedure and am still in the recovery process.

Work count: 2.958

Serie materialist

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

You were taken to the hut where you first saw K'uk'ulkan. The man left her on the ground and walked away with impressive speed. You were still out of orbit when your maids surrounded you and began to take off your dress, jewelry and ornaments. Her hairstyle was undone leaving her hair loose. Her magnificent wedding dress was replaced by one in a light, semi-transparent fabric. With the work completed, your maids left with mischievous smiles on their lips, leaving you alone in the room.

You needed all your strength. Not physically, at least at that moment. But you had to gather all your courage and self-control during that time when you were alone in the cabin. After all, when K'uk'ulkan entered that environment, her current husband, would enjoy what was rightfully his; You. Your mother and priestesses had prepared you for this moment. They instructed him that the marriage bed could be good for both of them; You must please and be pleased too.

However, even with the instructions received, you still felt nervous, you had never even kissed a man and now you had to consummate the marriage. You knew that you would be naked in front of each other, you knew that it would touch you that he should enter You to plant his seed, and you still knew, from listening to one of the priestesses, that during the first time pain might arise. One of them told him, just before the procession, that a woman's first time hurt as much as burning her skin on a hot metal plate. Her mother scolded the priestess for uttering such foolish words, turned to You and said: “It is just a nuisance, my daughter, it will pass. How to thread a ball of yarn through the eye of a needle. It's a question of space.”

Your mother's words echoed through your mind making things even more confusing and frightening for You. To try to distract yourself, You observed for the first time, truly, the private environment that was your husband's and now hers. There were richly designed paintings on the walls, some still incomplete. You ran your fingertips between the images, admiring the lines and details. You found it in your own mind to ask what those drawings meant to the culture you now belonged to.

You were startled when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned around, watching your husband near the entrance. She was not as well dressed as before; his serpent-shaped ornament was taken off, as were his golden shoulder pads and bracelets and his cape. All that remained on her body were green shorts with white details.

“I apologize for this, my queen. Talokan may have harsh traditions for foreigners.”

"Everything is fine." You said as you clasped your hands in front of your body. “I don't know exactly what happened so I haven't had time to form any opinions about what it was all about.”

He found your answer funny and was ready to laugh, a lot.

“In Talokan, after the wedding, the bride and groom are undressed and taken to the wedding bed by their guests.”

“Oh!” the sound escaped his mouth. “Remind me to thank the man who brought me here safely. I wouldn’t feel comfortable being undressed in front of everyone.”

“I’ll thank him myself for not allowing anyone to undress her.”

“So...” You said, trying not to show your nervousness. “What do these paintings mean?”

“I made them myself.” He said looking at them with great pride. “They tell the story of my birth. It’s not complete yet.”

“I didn’t know my husband was such a talented artist.”

He let out a cute giggle and seemed to blush at his words. You thought his reaction to such a flippant compliment was funny.

“I appreciate the compliment.”

“I hope our children have your talent.” You blurted out.

“I hope they are as beautiful as their mother.” He is approaching You, like a serpent about to pounce on its prey, a hungry serpent before the most succulent bird. “You, my queen, are the most beautiful woman there is.”

“My husband didn’t pay close attention to the other women.” You said as you flinched slightly at his touch on your cheek.

“I never argue with myself, I know what I’m saying, I say that my wife is the most beautiful woman there is.” He whispered with the rest close to his, eliciting a smile from You.

“I appreciate the compliment, my husband.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.” He replied. “It's an observation” He starts a trail of kisses down your neck. “Come with me, my queen.”

K'uk'ulkan guided you to a part of the hut where there was a circular reed large enough to take up the entire space. You were surprised that the piece of furniture fit in a seemingly tight space. You could, one day, ask him how the architectural system of that place worked, but his thoughts were more interested in what he would do with You on the padded furniture.

"What should I do now?" You asked looking at him. His eyebrows arched into an expression of disbelief. You felt like an idiot in that moment for asking something so stupid.

“Anything my wife wants.” He said as he approached You. “Tell me what your heart desires.” He brought his face close to his, their lips almost touching.

You didn't know what your heart wanted, but your body demanded that man, needed him. You advanced on him, truly kissing him for the first time, it was awkward and awkward at first, but your husband was willing to guide you. When You finally got the hang of it, the kiss became pure desire and passion, much more than You could have expected.

K'uk'ulkan took you in his arms, without stopping to kiss you for a single moment on the way to the reeds, he put you on your feet and took off, or rather, tore off your dress, leaving you completely naked for the delight of his eyes. .

"So beautiful." He whispered as he ran his black eyes over her uncovered body.

His chin was pulled forward and your lips crashed against his once again. You returned the kiss in a few seconds. His tongue pushed her lips and they parted welcoming him very willingly. The hand that held his jaw snaked towards his and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss making your mind spin and your heart flutter. His hand grabbed his chest, searching for something to hold on to while the other was around his neck.

You gently pushed him away, panting; your eyes met his which sent goosebumps across your skin. His chest heaved, his eyelids trembled and his legs were as soft as leaves. K'uk'ulkan held You by the waist, preventing You from moving away from him. His lips didn't stay away from yours for long, they brushed against yours once again, causing waves of electricity to course through your body.

"Sweet." He murmured against your lips, opening his eyes. K'uk'ulkan seemed very happy to see his current state. He hovered over You with a beautiful smile pulled on his lips while yours could barely be felt. He slid his hand down her shoulders, his fingers caressing the soft skin.

You let out a startled cry as you fell backwards into the reeds with your husband hovering over you. He seemed happy with your reaction as the beaming smile never left him. Her husband bent down and ran his fingers over the space between her breasts, leaving a hot trail wherever he went.

“I will take good care of you, my love.” He spoke while leaning on his shins, placing himself between her legs. He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he held her foot with one hand and brushed his fingers against her belly. He was slow in his actions wanting You to feel all the pleasure he could provide. When K'uk'ulkan's fingers brushed against your intimacy You let out a sigh and a loud moan.

"My husband." You whispered, as your heart pounded in your chest. He laughed at the situation, he seemed to enjoy the way you looked miserable under his touches. He began to plant delicate kisses on your inner thigh, You shivered, and dug his fingers into the sheets beneath You.

“K’uk’ulkan… oh Gods!” You screamed when you felt tongue and lips on your pussy. You struggled as you felt the mix of strange but pleasurable reactions. K'uk'ulkan opened her legs even further and began to devour her pussy. You could feel the cool jade of his nose ornament brushing against your sensitive, wet flesh. In one quick movement he used his tongue to play with your entrance, the sudden action made your hips contract and you moved away. But before You could get anywhere he pulled You closer by your legs.

“Don’t walk away from me.” He said with a slight hint of irritation in his voice as he held your hips firmly.

“I’m sorry…” You spoke in a pathetic whisper. “I’m not going to walk away.”

“You are being sweet to me, my love. I appreciate that." He purred, his eyes fixed on yours. He dragged his lips along her skin and dove back into her pussy, which was getting wetter and wetter. You moaned and writhed at the explosion of pleasure that filled every cell in your body.

With his fingers digging into her hips, her husband dragged his tongue over and around her wet flesh. He ate You, caressing your sensitive pussy with his tongue tasting your sweetness. His hands slid into his black hair and his knees knocked against his body. A strange feeling slowly filled his body; first on the toes and went up with each stimulus.

“K'uk'ulkan...” You said urgently as the strange feeling seemed to grow more and more. “I...I...I think...” He ignored you and held your pussy even closer to his face. Licking, sucking with more desire.

One of his hands left her hips and pressed one of her breasts, squeezing and playing with the erect nipples. His tongue snaked around your pussy making you see stars. Her nails raked his scalp and her thighs squeezed her husband's broad shoulders. While his legs trembled, his heart jumped, his toes twitched and his fingers tightened on the sheets, K'uk'ulkan pulled with his lips a specific spot on her pussy, causing a violent result.

A scream of pleasure escaped your throat, heat coursed through your body trapping You in a world of wonder, your toes curled unable to hold steady and a wave of pure satisfaction filled every inch of your body. When the feeling went away, you were nothing more than a messy little thing staring at the cave ceiling. You were stuck in a trance of pleasure that you didn't feel your husband pulling out of your pussy. With the back of his hand he wiped the traces of pleasure from your mouth and beard, but he didn't do a good job: You got so wet that the remnants of your excitement remained in your beard.

With his eyes focused on her face, he ran his hand down her waist and across her ribs. The calloused palms felt his breasts and then the hands wandered to his neck. He held her jaw and gazed into her eyes, still clouded with pleasure.

“Ah my queen. My sweet and beautiful queen.” He said teasingly, a wicked smile stretched across her lips. You blushed at the words said and wondered how that man had so much power over you.

K'uk'ulkan stood back on his heels and removed the shorts he was wearing. You blushed violently and looked away when his waiting member became hard and rigid. He pushed his body until he was on top of you with his arms placed on either side of your head. He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours once more. He forced your lips apart and his tongue met his. He kissed you gently but intensely, teasing every corner of your lips until he kissed you more deeply.

His hips pressed against his as he began to rub his cock against her sensitive pussy. You sighed, separating your lips from his as his dick was pushed against his pussy. You moaned, your legs opening to have more of that contact, when you felt the head of his dick brush against a sensitive spot. Electricity shot up her spine at that action, but her mind was distracted by yet another voracious kiss from her husband. He bit your jaw, licked your chin with his tongue. You shivered in his arms from the excess stimulation on his body. You moaned his name more than once as he ground his hips into yours repeatedly.

You squirmed against his body, until your cheek was pressed against his, feeling his beard. He pressed his mouth once again against his as his hand roamed his body in gentle touches. He gently squeezed her breasts, passed her belly and guided it to the small space between her hips. Grasping the base of his cock, her husband ran the head up and down, and back again, up and down her pussy. His body shuddered against his and a huge gasp escaped You as he began to press against You.

His legs twitched trying to close before the intrusion. Sue's husband kept his knees open as he slowly entered You. When he was halfway in, You began to let out pained moans and whimpers at the opening his penis forced into his body. K'uk'ulkan muffled her sounds with gentle kisses to her lips.

“It’s okay, my love.” He murmured to You, gently. But You were convinced that he was too big for You. Your heart clenched in your chest and your belly twisted in pain when he was finally inside You. You felt his hips pressed against his. You can feel his member inside him, your breath caught in your throat. He risked a slow movement. You let out a loud moan, struggled, closing your eyes tightly and digging your nails into your husband's back. He let out a moan when he felt all of her heat envelop him.

“It hurts.” You said, trying to get rid of him on you and inside you.

“It will pass soon.” He warned as he gave another slow thrust. Even with all the lubrication present, the pain was unbearable; he was big and thick.

“Please...” You exclaimed, struggling beneath him. “It hurts.”

Without you noticing, a stubborn tear came out of your pupil and slid down your cheek. The discomfort was too much. The pain was too much. You had never felt such a sensation in your entire life. K'uk'ulkan guided his left hand over his face and wiped away the stubborn tear.

“I’ll stay put until you get used to it.” He whispered between moans and sighs.

You could feel your husband's hard cock inside you, still. It was a mixture of pressure and laceration. His lower abdomen burned with heat and heat. You looked at him bent over You, with his face pressed against your right shoulder letting out low moans. The pain didn't go away, it was as if the sensation was going to tear him in half. Her eyes closed, her fingers rubbed her nails hard across the entire length of his back.

His attention was diverted when he felt a hot liquid drip from his entrance. The curse had broken, as a trickle of blood ran down his thigh and dripped onto the sheets, a moan left his lips and echoed around you. It made you dizzy as the pain was replaced by a small tickle of something more welcoming that blossomed in your core as he remained in your torn canal.

“K'uk'ulkan...” He fixed his gaze with a sullen expression. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His grimace was replaced by a wide smile. He brought his chest closer and removed his dick from her pussy. His lips exhaled a loud moan at the movement. A strange sensation surrounded his body that oscillated between pain, pleasure and fear.

He lowered his head and kissed you once again. He guided his cock into her pussy again, this time with one powerful thrust. He dragged his cock against her tight walls, pulling back only a fraction before repeating the thrusting motion. His face contorted with each thrust. His dick made sure you were full, feeling him touch your most sensitive spots. His eyes began to roll back, his eyelashes fluttering, as his legs began to shake with each hard thrust.

Her nails scratched his muscular back as a violent explosion of pleasure made it impossible to control her body hissing. You tightened your thighs around him as your walls clenched and rippled in that feeling of pleasure. K'uk'ulkan continued his thrusts, this time, chasing his own release.

Pleasure clouded your feelings as You felt the heat of your husband's seed being spilled deep inside You. His throat closed and You choked on the violent waves of electricity that coursed through his body. He left You filled with his hot seed, with eyes closed and limbs numb. At that moment it was as if the sun rose in the west and set in the east, the seas dried up and the mountains were blown by the wind like leaves.

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 11

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Eleven: Vengeance (Saera I)

When I was young, I asked my uncle: ‘What made us different from our subjects? Why do we live in castles, and them in squalors?’ - he smiled at me, finding my inquisitive nature like his own. I sat on his lap, holding a book of our history. ‘Our dragons’ he replied. ‘But we are mortals like them - we live and die like them’ I stated, and he petted my hair - listening to my explanation like I was an expert proficient on the topic. 

He chuckled, paying no mind to my explanation. 

He told me that I was right. We were mortals like our subjects - akin to them in the same way that a dragon was akin to a lizard. They had the same scales - and the same look, but dragons were greater than lizards. 

What was a dragon without fire? 

Saera. Me. 

For they have taken my uncle - my fire. 

Mysaria combed through my hair gently, careful to not anger me. Tears have been flowing down my eyes for the past hour. I wanted to kill myself. I wanted to lock myself inside my chambers and never come out - unless of course, Daemon was knocking. 

“You must pretend that you killed me, so I can run away from this place.” I sobbed, feeling my lungs release all its air.

My grip on the Valyrian necklace tightened - it was the only thing I had that reminded me of my uncle. ‘He’ll be there for the bedding ceremony.’ Lancel Hightower’s voice rang through my skull, my vision almost darkened. My kepus, my lover - will he have to see me in that way? 

“Aōha kepus iksis daor iā traditional vala, dārilaros. (Your uncle is not a traditional man, princess.)” Mysaria tried to comfort me, attempting to speak in Valyrian so that the other handmaidens wouldn’t be able to listen in our little conversation. 

“Iksā zūgagon bona kessa dōrī jorrāelagon ao, lo iksā married. (You are afraid that he won’t love you if you are married.)” Mysaria states, continuing to braid my hair. It wasn’t a traditional braid for a westrosi bride. It was a hairstyle for a Khaleesi - highlighting the wars that her love has won. My braid was one inspired by Stepstones. “Kessa iēdrosa jorrāelagon ao.  Kessa iēdrosa bāne ao. (He will still visit you. He will still warm your bed.)” Mysaria explained, and more tears fell from my eyes. 

I stare at myself through the vanity - my face was even rounder and swollen than before. “Yn kesan daor sagon zȳhon! (But I will not be his!)” I argued, my grip around the necklace tightened - creating marks upon my fingers. “Ao sytilībagon naejot aōla - daor naejot Daemon. (You belong to yourself - not to Daemon.)” Mysaria tried to comfort me, taking her sweet time in arranging my hair. 

I was thankful to her - as she was trying to buy more time. I closed my eyes, wiping the tears away from my apple cheeks. If Daemon were able to hear me - I could only pray that he knows to make Caraxes ride faster. 

“Jaelan naejot sytilībagon naejot zirȳla.  Mirre yno - zȳhon naejot udrāzma. (I want to belong to him. All of me - his to command.)” I stated, opening my eyes. 

“Yn aōhon naejot udrāzma, ēlī. (But yours to command, first.)” Mysaria exhaled, the other handmaidens began flooding the room - placing jewels on my body. One tried to remove the necklace that my kepus gave me, but I was able to send her down with a glare. 

“Aōha kepus jittan nyke, (Your uncle sent me.)” Mysaria revealed straightening the wedding gown at the side of my bed. It was the gown of my dreams, it was in white - with golden threads embroidered on the hems.

 “ - naejot mīsagon ao. (To protect you.)” Mysaria finished, lifting the gown.

“You have failed to convince me, Mysaria. It is a sweetened deal. Ñuha kepa iksis biare, se nyke jiōragon ñuha qogror. (My father is happy, and I get my pleasure.) Yn ñuha kepus iksis daor sepār qogror syt nyke.  Issa se bane hen ñuha ābrar. (But my uncle isn’t just pleasure to me. He is the bane of my existence.)” I closed my arms, refusing to wear the gown. 

As if the gods have seen my disdain - my father enters the room. His back was hunched, and he wore the crown of kings. He was smiling, beside him was his betrothed - Lady Alicent Hightower. I wanted to kill both of them. 

“Saera, your handmaidens tell me that you are dissatisfied.” he stares at me, hoping that the rumors were false. My father was a difficult creature. He told me that I was beautiful - but I was too opinionated. He told me that my eyelashes were long, but they were too blonde. He complimented me for my positive traits - but always found a way to make them sound bad. 

“My wedding is happening too soon.” I complain, hiding the tears that flowed over my cheeks. “You told me that I had a month more.” I add staring at him with eyes that were begging for a reason. He took a deep breath, and I knew that there wasn’t any escape to my fate. “It will be best to do the wedding now - Ser Harwin is yet to prepare in becoming your uncle’s replacement.” he told me, sitting beside me and shooing Mysaria away. 

He was stabbing me with a fucking dagger. 

“Kepus has already won the war. Why do you have to replace him?” I inquire, defending his station and reach over the kingdom. Daemon will not like it, but the men were still loyal to him either way. “Your uncle cannot maintain his power in the castle - he has duties elsewhere, dear girl. His wife is yet to bear a son.” he informs and your eyes darken at his last word. 

Son. A pregnant woman was only important because she could possibly give birth to a son. He killed my mother for a son - and mayhaps he is killing me too. 

“He is hoping that you grant him an annulment,” I stare at the side - eyes narrowing at my father’s next words. “I will not grant him that.” he asserts, and I release a sigh. “I will no longer entertain your notions about Daemon. He is a past that you should forget - Ser Harwin shall treat you as you deserve, and you will be thankful of him.” he places a hand on my shoulder. 

I wanted to cry - but I didn’t. 

What was the use? 

—

I wanted to be married in a Sept, like all the noble princesses did - but instead I was thrown in the middle of a throne room. With only my father’s noble men as audience. My sister, Rhaenyra, was not there - though I doubt that her presence would bring any comfort to me. 

Harwin was kind and endearing - but he wasn't what I desired. Any lady would be lucky to have him, but I wanted my uncle. 

I take a deep breath. 

Would our children have his eyes? Would I be forced to stare at my children's eyes and see the eyes of a man I was forced to love? 

I imagine my uncle barging through those steel doors, taking me by the hand and preventing this farce to continue. He'd fly me to Dragonstone, instill his promise of claiming me as his wife. 

Harwin continued staring at me - there were white lights on his eyes, not like stars - but they were shining. Shining for me. 

I couldn't feel my wedding - every word uttered by the Septon sealed my freedom. His hands were wrapped around mine, covering my pale palms with his. I glanced at his face for the second time - fantasizing that he was Daemon. 

“The love of the Seven is holy and eternal. The source of all life and love. We stand here tonight in thanks and praise to join two souls as one. Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. Hear now their vows.” he announced, and the lighting shifts - darkening. 

I take a nervous breath, facing him fully and holding both of his hands. He smiles at me - giving me a toothy-grin, but I don’t smile back. He has turned me into a caged bird. He has taken everything from me - and he doesn’t even know who I am. He starts first, cleaning his throat - rubbing circles on my palms. 

“Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers as she is mine, now until the end of days.” he vows in a rehearsed manner. The ringing in my ears began. I didn’t want to say anything - I didn’t want to open my mouth. I was silent for a few seconds - but Lord Lancel nudged me. 

"Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his as he is mine, now until the end of my days." I vow - reluctantly. I felt weak. My sister didn't lie when she called me weak behind my back. The people of this court tried to sugarcoat my weakness by telling me that I had a gentle disposition, but the truth was - I didn't have the guts. I didn't have the bravery to stand up for myself.

Daemon was right. I needed to be stronger. I needed to grow thorns.

The Septon raises his hands, and we join our fingers together. “You are now man and wife. May the Seven guide you and bring you eternal life.” the Septon pronounces - Lord Lyonel claps in celebration. 

His house has finally made it! He has finally mingled his blood with the royals. Harwin keeps staring at me - expecting a kiss, but I wasn’t going to give it to him. Fuck him. 

—

Daemon arrived - sometime before midnight and after. He wasn’t happy - and that is coming from someone who is unaware of the conversation he had with my father beforehand. He still stares at me - watching me converse with my husband. “ - your uncle is impressive, Saera. He’s ended a war in a few days.” Harwin compliments, and the smallest of smiles enter my lips. 

“He always finds a way to surprise us. He’s incredible.” I reply, staring at my blonde lover. He was beautiful. His clothes were changed - he adorned a white robe, with golden threads in the middle. He has found a way for us to look as one. It seemed like we were the one’s getting married. 

“It’s hard to live in his shadow.” Harwin complains, leaning on his chair. “The men do not bend for me. They speak of your uncle and his ruthless justice. I cannot be that, Saera.” he hums, taking a long sip of his wine. 

“Be different.” I reply and the men begin standing up. 

My dreaded ceremony. 

The only ceremony that Daemon is able to witness. 

My father raises his cup, staring at the lords with a smile on his face. “Ser Harwin Strong - the husband of my beloved daughter, has decided that the bedding ceremony remains private. Let us bid the newlyweds farewell.” he announces and I let out a sigh of relief. 

I wasn’t horrible in bed - but I didn’t want to be watched. 

Harwin stands up, a few handmaidens stride in our direction. “We’ll have a few seconds to freshen up. Shall we meet at our shared chamber?” he questions and I nod my head. Happy at the outcome. 

—

“You came too late.” I look up, untangling my hair from all its braids. Mysaria was standing beside me, watching Daemon and I converse with each other. “What have they fucking done.” he grits his teeth, taking another step forward. He wanted to take me away - to claim me as his. 

“I tried to stop them, I promise.” I breathe, combing through my hair in a rushed manner. He takes another step forward, leaning over my body and resting his head on my shoulder. He smelled like wine and strawberries. I wanted nothing more in the world than to have him. 

“I know you did, my good girl.” he whispers, trailing kisses along my collarbone. Mysaria keeps watching us, eyes wide open. Daemon stares at her through the mirror, silently dismissing her. 

Mysaria exits the door, and all hell breaks loose. All remnants of his self-control diminished at the sight of me in my nightgown. “I did all I could.” I add, and he throws me on the bed - roughness enveloping his eyes. “I know,” he whispers again, burying his face on my chest. 

“I wanted you to enjoy your first time.” he confesses, lifting my skirts and exposing my unclothed cunt. It was as delicious as he imagined - pink and tender for his picking. “A bastard like that cannot pleasure you.” he groans, pressing kisses on my thighs. 

A million thoughts raced through my head. My wildest dreams were coming true. “Then enjoy me, kepus.” I plead. 

He looks up at me - eyes seducing me further into his siren song. 

That was all he needed. 

He presses a sloppy kiss on my cunt - sending butterflies through my stomach. He was skillful - licking and slurping. 

I closed my eyes, and he tapped my thighs impatiently. “Look at me, little girl. Look at your uncle while he eats you.” he commanded and I forced my eyes open. “Kepus -” I moaned, bucking my hips to regain more pleasure. 

He chuckles, sending vibrations down my spine. 

“I love you, never forget that.” 

next chapter>>

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[rat-typewriter]

HATING WEDDINGS - DABI X READER

SUMMARY: just hours before you’re due to marry a man you don’t love, Dabi comes to change your mind.

Warnings: Swearing ig?? if that’s a warning lol

Proofread?: Not for even one second 😌

You sat, staring at your reflection - the stylist nervously tried to meet your eyes in the mirror. It was the third hairstyle she had tried in two hours. 

“It’s nice.” You said, attempting to mask the disappointment in your voice - but judging by the way your soon-to-be mother-in-law rolled her eyes and huffed, you were still a bad liar. 

Over the year that you had known the woman, the only thing you seemed to have in common was a mutual dislike for one another. You were not the sort of bride she wanted for her son - but this wasn’t about love or fairy-tales or happy endings. It was strictly business. 

Quirk marriages were much more common than most people would’ve liked to believe; they paid well too. You’d been found by the guy’s father - an owner of a wealthy construction company - who knew your quirk would be an invaluable asset to their business. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself, but at least money would never be an issue for you again.

Your mother-in-law had pulled the hairstylist into the doorway - as if standing a few feet away suddenly made you incapable of hearing their hushed voices. Your legs seemed to be buzzing with adrenaline that only seemed to be getting worse as the ceremony drew closer and your head was starting to feel slightly too light for the rest of your body - as if it was fading into a puff of smoke. 

Just as you began to half-heartedly wonder if you might be about to vomit: your phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number flashed up on your screen.

Last chance.

Quickly, you swiped the message away - averting your gaze, instead focusing on the colours of nail polish picked out for you. You had no idea that there could be so many shades of white: eggshell, cream, ivory, pearl, snow, chiffon, porcelain-

Now or never.

You stared at the text, your legs becoming more restless than ever. Now or never had become an almost-inside joke between the two of you - a secret reference to the first time you met that you both dropped into as many conversations as you could. Now or never summed up everything about the two of you.

—

You stumbled through the snowy alleyway, still reeling from excitement - and smoke inhalation. Your whole life you’d wanted to do that. To burn something. Not to light people’s cigarettes or warm their cold hands or melt their icy car doors. To burn something. 

Despite your blackened clothes and singed hair, the cold was starting to numb your fingers. The night air was freezing; turning your breath to fog in the dark. Your flimsy canvas shoes had long been soaked-through by the wintry slush that covered the streets - you hoped it wasn’t far. 

You hoped this place was even real. 

You reached a metal door - dented and dimly lit by a flickery yellow bulb - and knocked. Do you knock at a villain’s hideout? You wondered to yourself, beginning to feel nervous. Everything you knew about this place had come from whispers on shady streets or out the back of bars. 

Pulling you from your thoughts, the door swung open - the metal groaning as its hinges scraped together.

You couldn’t quite see the person who had opened the door, as they stood a few feet back - hidden by the darkness - but his voice was low and raspy when he spoke.

“Coming in?” 

You stood, staring into the black - your legs suddenly made of lead, but your chest alive with electricity. 

Another moment passed, the quiet filled by your soft breath turning to fog. A van rumbled past on the road and you caught yourself glancing back, watching as it rolled by. 

“Now or never.” He said and you turned back to face him. 

“Better be now then.” You said hoarsely - your throat burning as you spoke. 

The stranger stepped back and a yellowy strip of light crossed his face, illuminating his features. His skin was littered with scars you recognised as burns - something you had become familiar with, over the years of being unable to control your fire quirk - but beneath them he was young, no older than you.

His eyes crinkled slightly and he grinned - which suddenly sent sparks of fear and excitement through your chest again.

“Come on in then, sparky.” 

—

It was the fifth time that your phone buzzed - two minutes before the ceremony was to begin - that you gave in. 

You suddenly jumped out of your seat, the bridesmaid (who you barely even knew) and had been fixing your hair stumbled back.

“I- Uh,” you stammered as the other bridesmaids turned to stare at you. “I’m going to the toilet.” 

And you took off. 

You stumbled out of the door and down the hallway in shoes that were horrendously uncomfortable. You took a left, then a right, then a left again - until you found an open window. 

Without thinking, you forced the window as wide as it would go and shimmied through - tumbling out and into a bush.

As you attempted to pull yourself out and untangle your clothes - which had caught in the branches - you heard a familiar laugh. 

“Wow. Bit desperate to leave are we?” 

You whipped around, finding yourself face-to-face with Dabi. 

“Didn’t think you missed me that much,”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out and your brain was suddenly empty. Butterflies erupted in your stomach - the boy who you hadn’t seen in over a year was still able to make you nervous.

He grinned - oh how you’d missed that - and laughed again. “You look gorgeous, Doll.”

“Thanks,” you breathed - a little lightheaded. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He stepped forwards - rolling his eyes; offering a hand to pull you out of the bush. “Oh, how you flatter me,”

Accepting the hand, you let him heave you out of the bush - pulling you far closer than necessary. You stood practically against his chest, having to crane your neck slightly to look him in the eyes. 

You swallowed and felt your face grow hot. 

God he knew just how to make you feel sixteen all over again.

"I've missed you." You breathed.

He smiled - with only a hint of his usual smugness. "I've missed you too, Sweetheart,"

His hand found its way to your waist and he bent down, quickly kissing you. It wasn't long or passionate or hot. Just a regular, discrete peck on the lips.

But God did it make you fall in love all over again.

The sound of voices suddenly echoed around the corner and Dabi glanced around. He took a step back and turned to you with that slightly-terrifying, but oh-so-exhilarating grin.

“What do you say we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He extended his hand to you, faking a courteous bow and in return you grinned and curtseyed. Giggling slightly, you put your hand in his and he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles - winking up at you.

"Dabi Todoroki I never knew you were such a gentleman!" 

"If you ever tell anyone, I'll have to kill you" 

For a moment, his tone is so serious that you almost believe him - but then he smiles and tugs on your hand.

"C'mon, I hate weddings." 

"Me too." You giggled.

With your hand in his, you both took off running.

[basmathgirl]

You reblogged a Gif set of the first episode of the fourth season of DW „Partners in Crime“. One of your tags reads “filed under: things they often did to Donna” in regards to the unflattering lighting. And now I’m wondering what do you mean by that or what are other examples of “things” they did to Donna in your opinion?

Hello kind Anon

I started collecting examples to show you, but it qucikly became like a school homework project, so I won't write an essay about it.

Basically, Donna was not meant to be seen as glamorous, sexy, the love interest, or cool; just some middle-age woman close to the Doctor's visible age. And and we all know how the media has long dictated that only women under 25 (or under 30, at a push) can be seen as a romantic co-star. Good grief, CT was in the film "Starter For 10" in 2006, where she plays the mother to an 18 year-old lad, played by James McAvoy who is only 10 years younger than her, and she was paired with an actor almost 20 years older than her!

Anyway, I've picked three examples to get you thinking.

Watching S4 makes you realise that several bad lighting, unflattering costumes, and dodgy makeup decisions were made. I'm going to start with the way Donna was introduced to us in the trailer at the end of Doomsday as opposed to The Runaway Bride episode.

Trailer:

Episode:

Not exactly flattering in comparison - if you ignore being lit like a character from Wicked. You'e never think these were filmed only a couple of months apart. And there was the whole disappearing cleavage shenanigans to take into consideration:

One minute it's allowed to be there; the next it isn't. Why? It's as if busty women aren't allowed to exist. DT certainly enjoyed the view but that's a whole other post..

They often put Donna in clothing I'd bought for my mum. Take for instance the outfit she wears at the beginning of Fires of Pompeii.

Very middle age-to-early pensioner in design, you must admit. Yes, tunics were the fashion at the time the programme was made but this is at the opposite end of the spectrum to Rose's 'little girl' pinafore combo or Martha's leather jacket. It's practical clothing that's not meant to be attractive but comfortable. Except all that nylon would have had her sweating like a pig in the Italian heat. Oh well. It's not as though they intended for her to look pretty. The dress Evelina gives her is a definite step up, but it is still very 'mumsy'.

Our last view of Donna was originally her wedding to Shaun Temple.

What could have been a pretty dress becomes a hideous outfit for Donna. They must have chosen the most unflattering hairstyle for her ever possible. But never mind, eh? She gets handed a winning lottery ticket so it doesn't matter if she doesn't look beautiful on her wedding day. At least she could look at the photos later and acknowledge Nerys managed to be pretty in a peach dress. The money should more than make up for it *chokes on my own spital*

Yes, I have many problems with the whole wedding scene in The End of Time where Donna gets her 'dream' of being married to a man who doesn't even stand next to her in most of the photos. Not that she seems to mind. We're supposed to believe she gets a huge pay cheque a happy ever after to fulfil the dream.

In case you were wondering, I'm much happier with the 60th anniversary specials.

[theroseceleste]

Jessica - @ Lizzie_Miggy on Twitter commissioned me to write a Bridgerton inspired AU for our lovely comic book Miguel O'Hara and her OC Lizzie Cunningham.

A Duke who has already suffered loss, reluctantly marries again. Will he allow himself to move on and embrace his second chance with love?

Thank you so much Jessica for the opportunity to write about comic book Miguel and your OC and explore the setting of Bridgerton.

Contains : 18+ - Minors DNI - Wedding day, wedding night, SMUT : oral, fingering, first time sex for OC.

Word count : 6805

Any interaction with post such as liking, commenting or reblogging is greatly appreciated. Thank you xx

Enjoy! xx

----------

Elizabeth Cunningham stands before her tall looking glass in her chambers. Her emerald green eyes wander over her elegant reflection. A slim-fitting silk wedding dress with a lace overlay adorns her beautiful form. A shakey, nervous breath escapes her parted lips as her gloved fingers trace delicately over the intricate lace design. Her long, dark, wavy brown hair is styled in a bun formed of tight ringlets, while a long ribbon of her wavy locks sweeps over her face and wraps around the elaborate arrangement at the back. A veil sits proudly atop the hairstyle, its smooth netted material drapes down her back, ready to conceal her face with the time comes.

Today is the day. A day that she has been waiting for what seems like an eternity. A day she gets to marry the man she truly loves - Duke Miguel O’Hara Fitzroy. Their long journey of courtship had come to a close and a new chapter of their lives together will soon begin. Their relationship did have its challenges. Reluctance on his part being one of them. A feeling born from grief over a lost first love, his first wife and mother to his daughter Gabriella.

Elizabeth leaves her bedroom for the last time, for today, after the wedding, she’ll be the new Duchess and will be living at her husband’s estate. The bride will miss her old room as it provides a certain comfort to her, a level of security that she grew up with in her family home. In fact, she’ll miss the grand house in Mayfair she lived in her whole life just as much as her bedroom. The family home contains countless memories of a happy childhood.

A whinny from a horse outside the house alerts her that her carriage awaits. It is time…

‘Lizzie’ - as she’s better known by close friends and family - watches the ton go by as her elegant horse-drawn carriage takes her to the church. The rest of the world continues with their normal lives as she’s about to embark on a new stage in hers.

Her father joins her in the carriage. He's proud to be the one to escort her down the aisle and give her away to the Duke. His darling girl will become the new Duchess. A title grander than anything a nobleman would give her. She is a vision of beauty in his eyes, but he supposes he’s biassed. He thinks Duke Miguel O’Hara Fitzroy should consider himself a lucky man, being given a second chance in love and marriage.

Church bells ring merrily as the carriage comes to a gentle stop outside. Not only will the rest of her close family be in there, but the King himself, the Duke’s mother, and his daughter will bear witness to their union.

   This dreamlike moment is becoming more and more a reality as time passes by. Pre-wedding nerves flutter like butterflies inside her as she is assisted out of the carriage gracefully and brought to the church doors.

Entering the house of worship, Lizzie can hear the hushed voices inside as the bells stop ringing. Silence falls upon the ton.

“Are you ready my darling girl?” her father asks in a low whisper as he holds out his arm for her to take delicately.

The blushing bride nods with an excited and nervous smile. Her hand rests on top of Lord Cunningham’s arm.

A large oak door stands between Lizzie and her future. She takes in a deep breath to calm her thumping heart and settle her buzzing nerves. With a loud creak, the door opens slowly. A sea of wooden pews stand before her, and at the other end of the aisle are her family and most importantly, the Duke.

Sun rays dazzle through the large windows, illuminating the pure white walls of the church. The groom stands there facing the altar. As he waits, he holds both of his hands together in front of him. His formal red military attire takes her breath away as she watches him from afar. The uniform compliments his build, making him look rather dashing.

As the Duke’s back is turned, the sunlight shines upon his dark brown hair, highlighting a deep red tint to it.

Either side of the aisle, bouquets of white and pink flowers sit on the end of each pew. At either side of the altar, two large elegant vases stand atop plinths with flowers and verdant leaves spilling out, cascading down the sides in a beautiful display.

The train of her silk and lace wedding dress slides along the smooth floor of the church as her father guides her slowly.

On the left, her family watches in awe at the elegant girl before them. On the right, the King and the Duke’s mother smile in approval at the stunning bride for their son.

Upon hearing slow footsteps approach from behind, the Duke finally turns. He probably feels the most nervous of all about his marriage to Lady Cunningham. Pressure has been mounting from his mother and father to marry, and the longer he courted Elizabeth, unpleasant gossip within the noble society prompted the Duke into proposing.

As of right now, however, he is blown away by her beauty. She is presented in a modest manner, but looks exquisite all the same. Their eyes meet after he turns to watch her as they reach the end of the aisle. The father of the bride bows to the King and then his daughter’s future husband, before taking his seat with the rest of his family.

After giving her own polite curtsey, Lady Cunningham looks up at her groom and smiles. Even through her veil, her green eyes shine brightly. Despite the nerves he feels, his expression remains fairly neutral, not revealing much in the way of feeling and emotion. Eventually, they turn to the altar to begin proceedings.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest begins. “We have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and woman in Holy Matrimony.”

Silence rains within the church as all the guests listen.

“The union of husband and wife is intended by God for the mutual joy; for the help and comfort given to each other in prosperity and adversity; and, when it is God’s will, for the procreation of children and their nurture in the knowledge and love of the Lord.”

The soon to be new Duchess blushes at the priest’s words, ‘procreation of children’, feeling thankful that the veil should help neutralise the pink hue on her cheeks.

“Therefore marriage is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, deliberately and in accordance with the purposes for which it was instituted by God.”

A pang of trepidation shoots through the Duke’s heart as his eyes remain fixed on the priest. He knows Elizabeth’s true feelings, but he worries his reluctance will affect them both.

“Into this union Lady Elizabeth Cunninham and Duke Miguel O’Hara Fitzroy now come to be joined. If any of you can show just cause why they may not be lawfully wed, speak now, or else forever hold your peace.”

The silence within the church remains resolute as no-one comes forth and speaks out, much to Lizzie’s relief. She subtly releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“I charge you both, here in the presence of God and the witness of this company, that if either of you know any reason why you may not be married lawfully and in accordance with God’s Word, do now confess it.” The priest waits for any potential response from the couple.

Lady Cunningham has nothing to say and turns to gaze up towards her love. Her optimistic green eyes searching the Duke in silence.

Miguel swallows hard. He is lawfully within his right to marry, however he can’t help but feel hesitation, but does not open his mouth to speak.

Satisfied that neither of them have any reason not to continue with the marriage, the priest continues onto the next segment by turning to Lizzie.

“Lady Elizabeth Cunningham, will you have this man to be your husband; to live together with him in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto him as long as you both shall live?”

The sweetest smile grows across her pink, plump lips. “I will.” A promise she truly means. A promise she had been wanting to make to the Duke for such a long time. She felt it challenging to not cry with happiness in this moment, however she keeps her composure.

Now, the priest turns to the groom and repeats the question and waits for his response.

The Duke holds his answer for a moment longer than his bride. It’s not that he doesn’t want to marry her, however he has reservations that he hasn’t yet confided in anyone and now perhaps he feels it is too late to express his worries. Finally, he replies.

“I will.”

The priest now asks for the bride and groom to face one another in preparation of the exchanging of vows.

Miguel takes his lady’s right hand and repeats the vows he’s been given.

“In the name of God, I, Duke Miguel O’Hara Fitzroy, take you, Lady Elizabeth Cunningham, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death…” he pauses for a moment and swallows hard again. “This is my solemn vow.”

The groom releases his bride’s right hand. Now it is her turn to take his. His large hand dwarfs hers as she holds it, giving it a delicate squeeze. His heart warms as he feels her fingers tighten around his.

“In the name of God, I, Lady Elizabeth Cunningham, take you, Duke Miguel O’Hara Fitzroy, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.” Her words are spoken clearly and precisely without a single moment's hesitation. The pair release hands but remain facing one another as the priest takes a cushion bearing the rings to be exchanged by the bride and groom.

“Bless, O Lord, these rings are a symbol of the vows by which this man and this woman have bound themselves to each other through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

A chorus of “Amen,” follows the priest’s prayer to God to bless the rings.

Before placing the ring on his bride’s finger, he must remove her long silk glove. Taking her hand gently in his, he tugs at the material, causing it to slip down her arm with ease.

Now that her hand is bare, Duke Miguel takes Elizabeth’s ring from the white velvet cushion presented to him. Holding her left hand, he positions the ring just at her fingertip. This moment transports him back to his first marriage but he presses on as he feels his father’s eyes fixed on him.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honour you, in the Name of the Father, and the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” After he speaks, the fine jewellery sits proudly on her ring finger.

The Duke’s ring is now lifted from the cushion as Elizabeth prepares to do the same.

It seems like an eternity sliding the gold metal band up his left ring finger as she speaks her vows. Each digit is so long and slender. She loves admiring his strong hands. Just doing this makes her feel giddy.

The priest now joins both the bride’s and groom’s right hand and begins to speak once more.

“Now that Lady Elizabeth Cunningham and Duke Miguel O’Hara Fitzroy have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and giving and receiving of rings, I pronounce that they are husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” he pauses for a moment. “Those whom God has joined together, let no one put asunder.”

Another chorus of ‘Amen’ rings out from everyone within the church.

“Lady Elizabeth Cunningham and Duke Miguel O’Hara Fitzroy, having witnessed your vows of love to one another, it is my joy to present you to all gathered here as husband and wife,” he pauses to face Miguel. “You may kiss the bride.”

Elizabeth’s heart flutters at the priest’s permission for the Duke to kiss his bride. She waits patiently as he gently lifts her veil and leans in to give her a soft, delicate kiss on her lips. While he does it quickly, he feels her press into him which makes his heart pound momentarily.

Alone at last - in the carriage - the pair are on their way to the wedding’s reception. It feels strange to know that they’re married now. Strange how the deal is sealed by simply speaking a few words and sliding a ring on the bethrothed’s finger.

Sitting side by side, a slightly awkward silence rests between them. A well-manicured hand reaches out and takes the Duke’s, causing him to stir from his deep thoughts. The silent man looks down at his new Duchess and a soft smile breaks across his face.

“You look beautiful, my dear Elizabeth,” he whispers to her as he squeezes her hand back.

“Please, my love, call me Lizzie. We’re married now, we can act rather more familiar with one another.”

The handsome smile fades slightly as fear creeps up on him at her words.

“Of course - Lizzie,” His Grace repeats the affectionate name for his new wife as if testing it out on his tongue. He tries to smile again, but it does not reach his eyes.

With such a caring heart, Elizabeth can sense her new husband’s troubles but is not yet privy as to what they are. A feeling of concern washes over her. Another gentle squeeze presses against the Duke’s hand to provide some kind of reassurance. Silence falls once more within the carriage as it gently rocks down a road of the ton, on the way to his father’s palace.

In comparison to the number of guests at the church, the reception is certainly a lot busier. An array of colours fills a large room. Ladies, Viscountesses, and Baronesses brighten the place with the latest fashion. Some wear gowns of bright colours that dazzle, while others are sporting flattering paler shades. The male guests of course look handsome and sharply dressed for the joyous and momentous occasion.

An orchestra plays at one end of the room while a banquet for the guests is beautifully presented on a large table. An impressive five tier wedding cake stands proud, adorned with pink flowers wrapping around each layer elegantly.

Her Grace, Elizabeth, finds herself separated from her husband as she greets guests. Duke Miguel O’Hara Fitzroy appears to be speaking with his father who sits at the other end of the room. She receives bows and curtseys, compliments on her dress and the stunning reception that is being thrown in honour of their wedding. Between speaking with guests, the Duchess notices that the discussion between the King and his son is looking rather heated, despite speaking in hushed tones.

A little while later, the dancing begins. The bride and groom join hands and stand at the centre of the wide open space in which they will dance together. The orchestra begins to play, prompting the newly wed couple to waltz. The Duke and his new Duchess spin and twirl in beautiful circles around the dance floor. It seems his wife is rather well practised and performs with grace and elegance. She follows his lead as though she has danced with him for a lifetime.

In his gentle but firm hold, she stares up at Miguel as she tries to read how he is feeling as he looks subdued, hesitant and retiring. Occasionally she is met with a smile and kind eyes from the love of her life, making her heart flutter once more.

Curiosity still grows within her as to what his discussion with the King was about, but the Duke’s face is giving nothing away.

After their dance, many other couples begin to join them on the floor. Dancing and twirling under elaborately designed gilded candelabras hanging from the ceiling. Flames from the candles themselves flicker and sway in their own performances while illuminating the room as the sun starts to set, painting a golden glow through the windows and onto the walls.

By sundown, the Duchess has spoken to everyone in the room, including her now father-in-law, King Tyler Stone and Miguel’s mother, Conchata. They both seem very approving of their son’s new wife; he couldn’t have chosen a better candidate for his hand in marriage. They believe her optimistic outlook will brighten Miguel’s life, with the help of his beautiful daughter, Gabriella.

Climbing into a horse-drawn carriage once more, the bride and groom set off to their estate and her new home. As their carriage trundles down the dark roads, Lizzie notices that her husband has fallen silent once more.

“What was your discussion with the King about, my love?” she asks, doing her best to be careful on the subject.

The Duke sighs as his gaze remains on the view outside his window. Candle-lit street lamps pass by momentarily, illuminating the beautiful houses of Mayfair.

“He was just interfering in my business; pay no mind to it my dear.”

Her beautifully shaped brown eyebrows furrow at his response. “But it’s clearly upset you, Miguel-”

“It has not,” the groom interjects. While it is a response that cut his wife’s words short, it was not said sternly, or in a cold manner. However Elizabeth notices he is not looking at her. A strong sense of resolute willpower encourages her to persist. She will get to the bottom of this conundrum and fix whatever it is that has put her husband in a sombre mood.

A clear night sky twinkles above the pair as they climb out of the carriage after it arrives outside their grand home. The air is still warm and comfortable. Lizzie cannot wait to see her new home during the day. She’s sure the house’s beautiful features are hidden in the darkness that enshrouds it at night.

Arm in arm, the Duke leads his new wife into the family home, where his daughter is already sleeping. She had retired early from the wedding reception as it was approaching past her bedtime.

After tucking her in, Miguel gives Gabriella a soft and loving kiss on her forehead as she sleeps soundly.

Once the groom emerges from his daughter’s bed chambers, he reunites with his new Duchess.

“This will be your room,” he says softly as he guides her into a large bedroom, full of opulence and luxurious furniture.

Her Grace raises a questioning eyebrow at her husband.

“My room? And where is yours? Do we not have a marital bed?”

Miguel frowns at her questions. This is what he and his father were discussing earlier. The King was pressuring the Duke to ensure his new marriage was consummated on this night.

“I’ll just be along the corridor and on the right,” he answers, glossing over Lizzie’s final question.

Long ago, before he was married to his first wife, His Grace considered himself a ladies’ man. Many a woman swooned and flapped their feather fans at him as he passed. He enjoyed their attention, and loved to see how their faces blush when he paid any one of the lucky ladies a compliment.

Of course he calmed down once he found his wife. He was loyal and loving towards her. His daughter completed them as a family once she arrived. He was happy and full of contentment, nothing could bring him down… Except for his wife’s untimely passing.

His better half, his significant other, the sun to his moon - gone, and never coming back. His ‘ladies’ man’ persona, totally diminished.

After the mourning period, the King and his own mother began talking to him about remarrying. Something he felt reluctant to do. To keep the peace, after much deliberation and disagreement, he re-entered society.

Instantly he was swarmed by many young ladies, totally overwhelming him at balls and other social events; until one evening, one lady in particular caught his eye. While still displaying a level of attraction towards him, she seemed to care for him and his feelings, unlike the other ladies wanting to marry him for his title and status. She was indeed beautiful and a very talented young woman. However, his reluctance to marry made him draw out their courtship as long as he could, before feeling more pressure mounting on him, and his own guilt of taking up Lady Elizabeth Cunningham’s precious time searching for a husband in society.

His now wife shakes her head at her husband. This is not how things should be, and this is not how she wants it to go.

“What troubles you, my love?” she asks, stepping forward and taking his hands in hers. Tension stiffens his body, making him look more rigid as he feels her touch. She notices her groom try to pull away but her imploring emerald green eyes stops him in his tracks.

“Nothing troubles me-”

“Something clearly is,” she interjects. She hopes he will open up for her, but she is met with nothing. “Need I remind you of our vows we made just this morning?”

His Grace breaks eye contact and looks away, however his hands grip hers back.

“I, Elizabeth, take you, Miguel, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by-”

“I know!” His serious, wide eyes snap back to his wife. The pair remain standing before one another, their fingers interlinking.

“Did you not mean your promises to me and to God, Your Grace?” The fact that she refers to him as ‘Your Grace’ and not as her usual ‘my love’ or his actual name hits him hard. His expression softens before he lets out a long sigh.

“Of course I meant them, Lizzie…”

“Then what in God’s name is the matter?” The Duchess has kept her cool the whole day. Acting with grace and decorum despite experiencing several moments where her new husband hasn’t behaved with his new bride as she hoped. The desperation to understand his troubles is clear in her voice.

Silence - an all too familiar sound for her falls between them again. But before she speaks to prompt him further, the Duke begins to confess.

“I’m scared,” his voice almost breaks with emotion. A pause fills the air once again as he breathes heavily. Lizzie’s shocked, wide eyes are fixed on his.

“Scared of what?” she mutters, his confession almost renders her speechless.

“I’m scared - no - petrified that if I allow myself to get too close, I’ll…” He bows his head down, almost in shame. “I’ll lose you too…”

A surge of love floods her entire body as tears well up in her eyes. His words confirm that he does in fact feel love for her and relief washes over her.

“My love,” she begins as her hands rest upon either side of his face, “I understand your worry. But is it not better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all?”

The Duke considers her question in silence.

“We are married now, my love. We must embrace this.” Her thumbs caress his cheeks. “My love for you is as true as the days are bright and the nights are dark. From the moment we met, I have loved you. My feelings have never wavered, never dimmed, never waned. Instead, they have grown, like the warmth of the sun builds on a summer’s morning, resolute as mountains that bow to nothing and everlasting as the wedding band that encircles my finger.”

A beautiful smile breaks across her face the very moment she sees her words warm her husband’s heart. His expression softens, along with the rest of his body.

“It is my dream to be the one to make you happy, to be the one you wake up next to every morning and to be the one you see last at night. Please let me live my dream and you’ll never regret it… I swear it.”

“Oh, mi bonita…” A whisper rushes through his parted lips as his hands find her face. Long black eyelashes flutter at his touch, while her heart feels a similar sensation. There have been fleeting moments when she has heard him speak Spanish and it gives her a thrill each time. She doesn’t know much, but she understands that he just called her his pretty.

With such an unblemished reputation as hers, the Duchess had never been touched the way her husband is touching her now. His closeness takes her breath away. While it feels nice and very much welcome, it will take a while to get used to.

“Lo siento, mi amor.” His Duchess is right, it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. It’d be a miserable existence to be married and too afraid to show love and give affection. Even worse, to be married and to never feel love or affection. He couldn’t do that to Lizzie.

A hand slides from the side of her face to the back of her head. His fingertips getting lost in the bundle of curls collected together in a bun. A desire burns through him as he looks down at his new wife. He remembers her pressing into his kiss earlier at the church and would very much like to experience that again.

Her breath hitches as she feels him lean down closer to her. A series of gasps fill the room as his lips press against her forehead and travel delicately to her cheek and jawline. In the corner of his eye he watches her eyelids shut while her lashes flutter against the side of his face, tickling his skin. The sound of her soft breath emerges from her beautiful, kissable lips. The Duke wants to take his time. Make the moments she spent earlier being so tolerant with his behaviour worthwhile.

A smile spreads across his face as he feels her lean in against him, her parted lips in search for his own. More faltered breaths punctuate the sound of his tender kisses, the warm air fanning across his cheek.

She gasps as he misses her lips all together and plants kisses on the other side of her face. Her head turns the other way, following him as her search for his lips continues. It has become a game. She giggles while he chuckles as hands caress and their breathing quickens.

Lizzie’s search is becoming more desperate and Miguel finally relents. His lips travel slowly from her cheek down to her ready lips.

Both of their bodies come alive the moment he captures her mouth with his. Eyelashes flutter again as their kiss excites her.

She feels something warm and wet tease at her lips. His tongue seeks entry to deepen the kiss. A strange sensation but a welcome one. Lizzie has always wondered what a proper kiss feels like and now she’s finding out. Her fingers travel from his cheeks up into his wavy reddish-brown hair as she allows his tongue entry into her mouth.

Rocking forward, she stands on the balls of her feet to give herself extra height while his arms wrap around her, holding his wife close to him.

“I think…” His Grace begins before he quickly captures her lips and pulls away again. “I shall sleep in here after all…” A smile grows against his lips, upon hearing his comment.

“Excellent idea, my love…” Elizabeth replies before sighing sweetly, her husband’s lips have found her neck, peppering her skin with tender kisses and light grazes with his teeth. A grunt vibrates against her flesh as she grabs his hair and gently tugs it. The sensation shoots right down to between his legs, awakening a certain part of his body.

Pins that support the bridal hairstyle start to get pulled out one by one by the groom. He longs to see her beautiful, long, dark, brown hair frame her pretty face again. Intricate curls and ringlets fall, bouncing into place as he lets more of her hair down. His hand collects all the hair accessories and places them on the bedside table. As he does so, he continues to kiss his bride, showering her with the love that she deserves. Fingers run smoothly through her hair, loosening the curls until it resembles more of her normal style.

“There you are…” he whispers after pulling away, his eyes taking in the view of her gorgeous wavy mane. The Duchess giggles; she’s enjoying this side of him and can’t wait to experience it more.

Now that her hair is down, his hands focus on the buttons on the back of her dress. As the bridal gown loosens, his warm lips ignite tingling sensations coming alive from the side of her neck while he stands behind her. He hears soft moans and sighs come from her mouth as she tilts her head to one side, allowing him better access. A strange sensation pulses out from between her legs. A feeling she has never experienced before. It feels pleasant but it pushes her to want more, strengthening the urge for something she doesn’t yet fully understand.

“Such beautiful sounds, mi bonita…” he whispers against her skin as she unfastens the last of her buttons. Another lusty sound rings out from her parted lips. His Spanish makes her melt. 

Not much effort is required to let the dress slip down her shoulders and arms, collapsing in a half inflated heap on the floor. Now her short stays corset and the silk bottoms is all that is left for him to negotiate.

It isn’t long for them both to lay together on the luxurious four poster bed. An opulent canopy hangs above them. Hands roaming the skin of each other’s naked bodies as their lips are connected once more in a deep and passionate kiss. Fingertips leave goosebumps in their wake as they reach the crest of her perfect breasts. Her manicured hands traverse the sculpted muscles on his chest.

Then, he leans further forward over the top of her. Her smile falls slightly the moment she feels something hot and throbbing rest against her stomach. She can’t resist a look and almost yelps in surprise.

A strong hand gently cups her chin and pulls her head to make her look back at his face.

“Do not worry, mi amor. I’ll take great care of you,” he leans in close and kisses her lips quickly before speaking again. “I’ll go slowly, I’ll be tender and we can stop at any time if you so wish.”

Lizzie gives a slight nervous nod, but she trusts him unequivocally.

After dancing tight circles around her hardened nipples, his fingers slip further down her body. Over her ribs, over her stomach and slowing down where her legs join her hips.

“First, I need to make sure you’re ready for me, mi amor…” He watches her close her eyes and sigh as he calls her his love in Spanish. Her reaction to his second language makes him smile before planting more kisses against her neck. This time he adds the sensation of his tongue trailing tantalisingly on her skin, tasting her.

“M-Miguel…” she whispers softly. Feeling him lick and kiss her neck while his hands gently parts her legs is taking her breath away. Giving her sensations she’s not at all used to.

“You’re in good hands, my love.”

A bigger gasp fills the room as the tip of his middle finger begins to circle deliciously around her sensitive bud.

“Enjoy it, mi amor. Does it feel good?” he asks as he murmurs in her ear momentarily.

The blushing bride bites her lip and nods while she tries to stifle a moan.

As time passes, his fingers travel lower down over her entrance. He discovers his efforts so far have already excited her. Biting his lip, he looks down at her with a smile.

“You’re nearly ready…”

After coating his fingers in more of her arousal, he slowly runs them up and down his hardened shaft and around the tip.

The Duke repositions himself on top of his Duchess. His lips crash against hers in a fiery kiss, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his. He has missed this feeling of closeness and intimacy. Feeling glad that he has this opportunity again and allowing himself to enjoy it.

Lizzie’s body instinctively arches upwards against him, seeking more contact, more heat and looking for something that’ll calm her inexplicable urges.

Kisses, licks and nibbles proceed down her body, starting from her neck, over her collarbone before stopping at her breasts.

“Miguel!” she moans urgently as she feels his lips close around a nipple and suck on it gently. Her hands go straight into his hair, unable to resist keeping him there for a while. A warm pulse emits deep inside her core, bringing a fresh wave of arousal that threatens to seep from her needy pussy. All she hears is a warm chuckle against her skin in response.

“That’s it mi amor, enjoy me…” he finally mumbles after releasing her nipple.

Moving over to the other, he does the same again. Drawing it into his mouth with a delicious suck, prompting her to arch into his body and moan once more.

The attention from his mouth advances down her body after releasing her nipple. Tingles erupt around her flesh, generating goosebumps to flare all over her skin.

“I wager you taste exquisite…” he mumbles between kisses as he continues to move lower.

“Miguel… w-where are you go- oh!” Her hands grip the bed sheets as she feels his tongue tease her clit, bringing a different sensation to when he used his fingers. The added warmth and moisture from his mouth made it feel even more irresistible.

Flicking in a teasing manner, between sensual circles and tender sucks, his tongue works hard to bring her absolute pleasure.

“You do indeed taste wonderfully…” The vibrations from his words only add more to what she’s already feeling, making her go crazy.

Elizabeth is now done with stifling her louder moans. It only gets worse when she hears him begin to groan against her, dissolving her into a bigger mess than she’s already in.

Just when she thinks she couldn’t receive more stimulation down there, she feels two fingers brush up and down her sensitive folds again. But soon, they begin to enter gently. Teasing the tight entrance, opening the lips just slightly.

His Grace feels her body stiffen as he pushes his fingers in further.

“Breathe, mi amore, breathe and relax…” he instructs before sucking on her clit a little bit harder in an attempt to distract her from his fingers.

As per his instructions, she relaxes and begins to enjoy the alien sensation of his digits sliding gently in and out, twisting and turning. The bride closes her eyes once more. All of this pleasure is transporting her to cloud nine.

Finally, Miguel believes she’s as ready as she’ll ever be for him. Crawling back up to face her, caging her underneath him protectively, he whispers to her softly.

“As I said, I’ll go slowly and I’ll be gentle. This may hurt, just a tiny bit.”

They keep their eyes locked onto one another. His gaze searches her expression for any kind of pain as he slowly starts to take her. His hips push further and further forward with every passing second, until she gasps out loud and tenses. His Grace stops pushing immediately and waits for her to relax again.

“You’re doing so well, mi amor.” His words bring a smile to her face and her blush deepens.

He begins again, slowly pushing until the hilt of his cock meets her fully aroused entrance.

“There we go…” Another whisper fills her ear. With little movements, he pulls back slightly before pushing back in, testing her for her reaction. Moans erupt from her parted lips as he watches her brow furrow with pleasure.

Dainty hands rest on his sides as his thrusts begin to grow stronger. With every pump, his body ripples, making sure her sensitive bud gets attention from his perfectly defined hips.

Knowing that his bride is fully comfortable with him inside her, he allows his grunts and groans to join her beautiful moans and sighs. A symphony of pleasure in time to his expert lovemaking fills the room.

The bed creaks under his efforts, but neither of them care. They’re too wrapped in their intimate, passionate lovemaking.

The Duchess’ mind is totally blown. She feels complete with him inside her, thrusting and grinding away, filling her with nothing but pleasure and love.

A new sensation is starting to build, one that makes her brow furrow more as she cannot see where this will take her, but she knows it’s doing something to her. With every movement from her husband, the sensation grows stronger.

Miguel grins, he can feel that sensation in her grow too as she begins to clench around him. Squeezing him harder with each pump.

“Miguel… what… I’m feeling something new… I-”

“Hush… do not fear…” he whispers between thrusts. “Let it go… let it happen…” 

Her fingers grip his sides harder as she listens to him. Instinctively, her hips begin to move with him, making them both start a fresh chorus of moans and groans.

The Duke’s mouth hovers teasingly above hers, they exchange each other’s air as they stare into their spouse’s eyes, deepening that connection further still.

Movements get faster and perhaps a little harder. His Grace can tell that his wife is well on her way to her first ever climax.

“Let go, mi amor, good girl…” he praises her as he thrusts even harder.

She lets a sudden moan escape her lips, the loudest one so far. An even more pronounced back arch pushes her body into his, creating further friction between them and pushing her over the edge of pleasure.

“Oh! Miguel!” Lizzie cries out, totally lost to the sensations swirling and rushing through her body. All the while, His Grace watches admiringly, enjoying the view of his wife feeling the powerful orgasm he has just delivered her to.

“Si, mi amor, si…”

His thrusts increase in speed, giving him the stimulation he needs to join her at the peak of pleasure. Miguel certainly isn’t that far behind.

“Make more pretty noises for me, my love… please…” he begs as he pants heavily.

He’s desperate for that release. Desperate to give her every part of him. And he’s so, so close.

Every moan that parts from her lips edges him nearer. His hands ball up into fists, clenching the bed sheets. Every thrust is accompanied with a wild sounding grunt. He watches her body rock under his efforts. The sound, the feeling, the display all working together, bringing him to the cusp of his climax.

With one final pump, his body stiffens as tingles erupt everywhere all around his body, spreading like wildfire. A beautiful sensation he thought he’d never feel again.

The Duchess feels the deep pulsing within her as her husband climaxes and fills her with his seed.

Strong arms wrap around Elizabeth, allowing her to bury her head between his neck and shoulder as the throbs of his orgasm die down.

Laying with her back pressing against his front, they snuggle together in their marital bed, their marriage consummated on their wedding night. The afterglow shining brightly between them with no regrets whatsoever. The groom kisses the sensitive area near her ear as his hand glides up and down her arm on top.

“Te amo…” the Duke whispers softly.

A warm smile spreads across her lips as she wriggles further against him, making sure she fits perfectly.

Today has been her dream come true and she cannot wait to see what her new life will bring, with the man she loves so loyally and so truly.

----------

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

If you're interested in commissioning me, please click on the link below to find out more!

[darlinggeorgiedear]

Hello 🥰 First of all your page is amazing and I love your page.I want to ask you a question.King George V was known to be a harsh and prescriptive father.But he was quite kind to his brides and grandchildren.My main question is who was King George V's favorite bride ? When he made a comparison, which one did he like more, or was he drowning in compliments ? Was there jealousy between the brides because of this love issue ? Dec. Could you please not offend me and answer my question 🤗Thank you very much😊

Hi! George V valued discipline and expected respect from his children, in response to his naval upbringing. In the navy (like most military branches) there is a strong emphasis on authority. George was the authority of his children, which they sometimes resented because they didn't want to do what he had planned (Duke of Kent being in the Navy was his father's wish).

Since he was not the authority figure over his daughter in laws or grandchildren, it makes sense that he was more relaxed. (I do believe he was often relaxed and loving with his children, but it is not false to say that his children resented him at some points, especially during periods when they were adults.)

I think if George had a favorite it would be the Queen Mother. Mainly because she was the only one he got to know. His other two sons who got married (Henry and George), did so 1-3 years before George V died, while the Queen Mother had been in the family for almost a decade.

He was actually very nervous about daughter in laws before any of his sons got married, since he didn't like the idea of someone new in his very tight knit family circle, which was very precious to him. Queen Mother was almost a God-sent for George V and his wife, Queen Mary. I think George liked her because she was traditional and charming. Mary appreciated how well she fit into the family, and especially liked how easily she got along with her George. I always think Mary got slightly tired of being the middle man between many people (especially her children) and her husband, and enjoyed being able to have another person around who could handle her husband. A great example of this is George being as tactless and opinionated as ever, told the Queen Mother that he didn't like her hairstyle (her fringe), and she responded with something like "Oh, sorry to hear that" and then continued on like nothing.

As I already wrote, Marina and Alice, married into the family very shortly before the King died, so they were not able to form much of a relationship with him. There are rumors about Queen Mother and Marina's relationship that showed jealousy, but this had nothing to do with Queen Mother's relationship with George V. When Bertie (George VI) inherited the throne, his brother George (Duke of Kent) was secretly critical. He didn't think his brother was up to the job and also thought his brother's wife was not up to be queen, mainly because she was not a born royal. In his defense, there is definitely a growing period with each monarch, and it's hard to not compare the new one with the old unfavorably. Marina apparently called Queen Mother (and Alice) those little Scottish girls (this rumor can't be confirmed, but since her husband had similar feelings I tend to be believe it).

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode illustrée, no. 5, 29 janvier 1865, Paris. Toilettes de Melles Rabouin, 67 r. Nve des Pts Champs. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Description de toilettes:

Robe en moire antique, nuance feutre, bordée avec une bande de fourrure brune; paletot demi-ajusté pareil à la robe, garni de la même façon; bandes de fourrure aux entournures et sur l'encolure. Chapeau de satin blanc, bouillonné sur le dessus de la tête plissé sur les côtés. Des nœuds en ruban de satin blanc tiennent la place du bavolet; fleurs en velours rouge posées en diadème petites brides de velours rouges; larges brides en ruban de satin blanc.

Robe de taffetas à rayures bleues, garnie avec un volant peu froncé, ayant 20 centimètres de hauteur; au — dessus de ce volant se trouve un ruban de velours bleu, terminé par une frange de soie bleue; au-dessus de cette bande se trouvent des festons en velours, croisés sous un bouton carré en nacre de perles blanches; entre chaque feston il y a un gland en soie bleue. Corsage décolleté, à pointes. Berthe garnie avec un ruban de couleur bleue et une frange de soie ; cette berthe se croise par devant et se termine- en deux longs pans à extrémité triangulaire; un gland et un bouton de nacre sont fixés à chaque pointe du triangle et l'attachent sur la robe. Manches très-courtes, avec trois glands; à l'intérieur du corsage chemisette plissée en mousseline blanche. Coiffure en ruban de velours bleu.

—

Dress in antique moire, felt shade, edged with a band of brown fur; semi-fitted overcoat similar to the dress, trimmed in the same way; strips of fur around the armholes and on the neckline. White satin hat, bubbled on the top of the head, pleated on the sides. White satin ribbon bows take the place of the flap; red velvet flowers posed as a diadem, small red velvet straps; wide straps in white satin ribbon.

Blue-striped taffeta dress, trimmed with a slightly gathered flounce, 20 centimeters high; above this frill is a blue velvet ribbon, terminated by a blue silk fringe; above this band are velvet scallops, crossed under a square mother-of-pearl button in white pearls; between each festoon there is a blue silk tassel. Low-cut, spiked bodice. Berthe trimmed with a blue ribbon and silk fringe; this berthe crosses in front and ends in two long sections with triangular ends; a tassel and a mother-of-pearl button are attached to each point of the triangle and tie it on the dress. Very short sleeves, with three tassels; inside the white chiffon pleated chemisette bodice. Hairstyle in blue velvet ribbon.

[bookcalanthedaily]

What do you think of Elle Fanning in "The Great"? Cause I love her hairstyles and some outfits are so Pavetta-coded I weep

oh i LOVED the show!! yes, sometimes she was veyr pavetta-coded, especially in the beginning. i do love her more loose hairstyles, like when she had that bride to one side, or her hair let down.

also that moment when she was pregnant and came to her mother and said "mummy? i'm scared" broke my heart because it was SO pavetta ;w;

[diabolikpersonals]

Ruri's wedding, expectation vs reality?? >:D

When I saw the theme for @arleccine 's oc contest was "brides," I really wanted to draw Ruri getting married! I thought I'd change up her hairstyle with this scenario in mind: she's trying to imitate her mother, because her mother is known for being beautiful, but Ruri's hair can't quite cooperate so she ends up looking messy...

Anyway, the proper contest entry is under the cut. If you've never read Ruri's fic and you want to, pls be aware that this will spoil it ^^

Ruri is Christa's daughter, born centuries after Subaru. During her childhood she lives joined at the hip with her mother, and learns to remain quiet and out of the way. By the time she's old enough to visit her brothers, she doesn't speak at all, and hardly responds when spoken to. The Sakamakis, in their own ways, learn to form their own connections with her despite her unresponsiveness. Because she's so inexpressive, her brothers often end up projecting their own insecurities onto her, and taking care of her becomes a way of taking care of their own inner children.

Eventually they do figure out why she doesn't answer them: Ruri is profoundly hard of hearing. Once they find out, they get her a hearing aid, and Ruri gradually starts to come out of her shell. She's an odd kid: she's unemotional but can be clingy once she likes someone, and she has a strange, unsettling air about her. She notices during her childhood that others, excluding her brothers, seem to be scared of her despite her good intentions. She starts to wonder if there's something wrong with her. Her brothers can't help but worry about her too: this sheltered, unsociable, undoubtedly strange girl was Karl Heinz's only daughter, putting her in a vulnerable position.

At a party, she meets a girl her age named Angelica. Ruri is infatuated with her and is prepared to take any measures to make friends with her. So to impress Angelica, Ruri takes her to a part of the castle she isn't allowed to enter. There, they are unexpectedly attacked by Karl Heinz's pet slug. They are saved when Kanato and Angelica's older brother come to their rescue, but the damage is done: Angelica thinks Ruri is gross, and her older brother thinks she's dangerous. Kanato comforts her, but the encounter leaves a scar on Ruri's heart.

When Ruri grows up a bit more, she visits her brothers more often, though she's still too attached to her mother to leave her side, even as a teenager. While she's visiting, a human named Yui Komori is sent to the Sakamaki mansion, and the two meet. Yui thinks that Ruri is creepy at first, but after getting to know her a bit, decides that she's a sweet girl after all. Ruri is infatuated with Yui just like she was toward Angelica, but the trauma from that time makes it difficult for Ruri to express her feelings. She desperately doesn't want to hurt Yui or scare her away, so she represses her own feelings and instincts as much as she can. Still, she can't help but daydream. She harbors a secret desire to marry Yui in a church, surrounded by her precious family.

Despite Ruri's fears, the two of them grow very close. Yui professes that Ruri is beautiful to her; she tells Ruri that her insecurities are lying to her, and that it's a shame that she can't see how wonderful she really is. Ruri can't hold back anymore and she tells Yui that she loves her, and Yui responds that she loves her back.

The problem now is that Ruri is still the only daughter of the vampire king, Karl Heinz, and she's expected to be married off. Sure enough, the details of her marriage are arranged soon after, without her input. Even though she had only just confessed to Yui, Ruri must live with her fiance, a vampire man she has never heard of, from now on.

She doesn't find out who her fiance really is until she reaches his house. His name is Lucius, and she's met him before: he's Angelica's older brother.

Ruri is horrified to be reunited with the siblings that scarred her so badly. Their opinion of her hasn't changed: they believe that Ruri is ugly, creepy, and dangerous. This marriage was arranged without Lucius' input as well, and he hates the idea of marrying the weird little girl who hurt his sister. Because of his family's situation, rejecting the marriage isn't an option, so secretly, he crafted a plan. He would steal the heart from Ruri's body and bury it in a coffin in the ground, then he would tear out Angelica's heart and place it in Ruri's body. Nobody would know he had made the switch, and then he would be able to escape with Angelica's heart and keep her safe and happy forever.

Will Ruri be able to escape Lucius' twisted plan and make it back to Yui? Or will she succumb to her shame towards herself, and end up losing her very heart and all the love it holds...?

...

thanks for readin! (/^_^)/ here's some extra pics. how ruri usually looks, with her braids that her mom did for her, and my first attempt at ruri's "wedding dress." I wanted to make it look old and ill-fitting, like she's an immature kid dressing up in her mother's clothes. her hearing aid is missing in this outfit cuz lucius takes it, making her revert back to her old awkward self who can't understand anyone around her.

[justforbooks]

Of all the cartoonists whose work appears in Trina Robbins’s brilliant book, The Flapper Queens: Women Cartoonists of the Jazz Age, my favourite is Fay King. Like her dazzling contemporaries, King used her strips to review movies and plays, as well as to chart the latest fashions. But she’s at her best – and her most modern – when her material is autobiographical. “The ukulele has not made me as popular as I expected,” she writes, in a cartoon depicting herself, all 45-degree angles and shingled hair, learning new instruments. “Women now read newspapers,” she observes tartly, in one of several strips in which her feminism is explicit. And then there’s her intriguingly hectic private life. In 1913, King caused a stir when, having married boxer Battling Nelson, she filed for divorce only a month later, claiming that he had kidnapped her and forced her to get hitched.

But in truth, every page of this luscious collection is delightful. Quietly curated by Robbins, an Eisner award-winning comics historian – she’d rather showcase her subjects’ work than spout social history – it begins with the most famous flapper cartoonist of them all, Nell Brinkley, who in 1925 began working on the first of her beautifully illustrated serials starring several somewhat daffy females: The Adventures of Prudence Prim; The Fortunes of Flossie; Dimples’ Day Dreams (in which the heroine fantasises, among other things, about running for president). Brinkley was wildly influential, “the most copied artist in the world”, according to some.

She was not alone. At the Boston Post, Edith Stevens was drawing a daily strip, Us Girls, devoted largely to fashion (“For winter, stockings with larger open mesh than ever,” she writes, gently poking fun at the latest torture device for the modish female), while Ethel Hays, whose career began at the Cleveland Press, turned her attention to all manner of modern problems, from the best way to cover one’s bathing suit (“the water is so concealing”) to the trouble with marriage (“Brides beware!” she warns her readers. “Don’t expect a Chesterfield. Be content with a human being.”).

I’m mad about this book. If it isn’t cartoon bliss, I don’t know what is – though sadly there’ll be no chortling on the bus: it’s too big to slip into your bag. Robbins wasn't certain where the word flapper originated. It could refer to the movements involved in dancing the charleston, though her preferred theory arises from the fashion in the 1920s for leaving your galoshes unfastened, which meant that they flapped as you walked. But what Robbins understood was that these six American women (the others are Eleanor Schorer and Virginia Huget) represent a revolution, not only in hairstyles and hemlines, but in a woman’s autonomy. They were working girls. The sharp elbows and pointy knees they gave their heroines not only made them look good in short, sleeveless dresses; they spoke, too, of a certain energy: a restless desire to be something more than just a fashion plate, a wife, a mother.

✔ The Flapper Queens edited by Trina Robbins is published by Fantagraphics

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[commenter2]

Exes and Oohs breakdown (spoilers)

Another Moxxie episode where we see his father AND ex-boyfriend.

This episode already gets points for coming out on the weekend, as a lot of people like myself didn’t like how the last episode aired during the work week.

Looks like Loona’s fat shaming/gas lighting is working, as Moxxie is now starting to believe it.

From time to time I have brought up the idea that Millie’s anger might be related to some kind of mental or psychological problem, and its moments like this that seem to hint/confirm it. It’s nice to see Moxxie being one of the things that can calm her down.

Looks like Moxxie and Millie aren’t the only people Blitzo likes to see doing it.

Heh it’s a Hell-icopter. Hey if Vivziepop can make the occasional cheesy joke in her videos then why can’t I, especially since I’ve already ignored several big ones of hers so far in the series.

Returning background characters. Well those kids are going to need therapy.

So this episode takes place in the Greed ring. Kind of hoping we would go to Envy, but at least we can learn more about the Greed ring.

Interesting to know that there is vehicle sized elevators available to take people to other rings while in their respective vehicles. Explains how Blitzo can bring the I.M.P. van to places.

Loo Loo Land is still a wreck.

Mammon is so cheap, he won’t pay to print his own logo on all of his things.

Improper toxic waste disposal. That’s the reason why the place is so green.  It’s probably more radioactive then anywhere in the Fallout series. Eh better than just having it represent money.

Before I forget, it seems like the theory of the shark demons being from Greed is true. It does make me wonder if there a sub-species though, as I’m sure there are some sharks in the Envy ring that look totally different from what we’ve seen, heck I think we saw some of them in “Ozzie’s”

In that wide shot where we see Crimson and that big shark guy, what is that red demon supposed to be? He looks like a Imp/Incubus mixed with something else that looks very bird like to me. Could he be the bastard child of a Goetia who slept with a lower-class demon?

Crimson says Blitzo is becoming famous but is it because of his business or because of his “relationship” with Stolas as the events of “Ozzie’s” still haven’t been showed yet. Has my wish of their relationship still being a secret coming true? I guess we will have to wait till the Ozzie X Fizz episode.

THAT’S NOT ANDY BERMAN!! Come on that would have been awesome for this episode, and I’m not even an Invader Zim fan.

WAIT HE DATED MOXXIE AND MILLIE! Now that’s a twist while still breaking away from cliché tropes.

Of course Blitzo is jealous of Chaz getting with M and M XD

Baby Moxxie and his mother! Looks like she wasn’t happy in the relationship, poor thing. At least it’s fitting and tolerable for this one time story compared to another cliche marriage but I’m not getting into that as today is all about Moxxie and Millie.

I will say, Moxxie’s mother is beautiful!

Love the flashbacks followed by the Titanic references, even Blitzo calls it out XD.

For robbing a bank owned by the demon of Greed, I’m surprised Moxxie only went to jail. You think a crime like that would be instant death or getting tortured from the demon himself.

MOXXIE AND BLITZO FIRST MEETING! I wished Moxxie had talked more in that conversation but it’s nice to see how it all started. It also seems to show that Moxxie likes Blitzo because he’s leagues nicer than his father and ex, betting its was how Blitzo wanted to get in touch with Loona that sealed their friendship.

By Moxxie saying “sissy lifestyle” I’m guessing Crimson is homophobic. I can see several HH/HB characters having issues with that.

Looking closer, Chaz’s hairstyle is very similar to Seviathan von Eldrtich’s hairstyle. I’m guessing that is a common style for aquatic demons.

Please tell me were going to get a “Princess Bride” scene later in this episode with Millie in the Westley role :D

So Crimson is homophobic. I’m also still surprised by what this series can get away with sometimes when it comes to visuals.

The flashbacks are education as along with getting more confirmation of Moxxie’s childhood and Crimson being a bad father and husband (not surprising) with very little words, but it’s also thanks to him Moxxie’s mother is gone. Damn. Hell just got a lot uglier without her in it.

It also seems like the HB fandom has another person to ship with Stella :3

Fourth wall break.

Imagine if before Chaz and Blitzo did the nasty, Stolas appeared with a camera, causing Blitzo to go “Are you F^&*ing filming us!”

Moxxie’s last name is Knolastname!

Moxxie X Millie FOREVER!

I honestly wasn’t expecting Chaz to have his own agenda, I thought we would see Millie learn about the wedding and try and stop it. Heck I’d be okay if Blitzo did this as he hasn’t done much in the episode, almost like he SHOULDN’ T have been in it.

“Says he’s better then he looks only to be knocked out” cliché. It would have been cool to see Moxxie do some action before getting knocked out, as that would be another reason why Crimson ties him up as he see’s that his son can be a problem.

I have been wondering what a demon wedding looks like, so it was nice seeing some elements of it.  I am surprised that the demon priest is wearing attire an actual human priest would wear. You think he would wear something more IDK… hellish, like wearing all red or something. Ooo what about gray as that could represent the groom (who wears white) and bride (who wears black) becoming one!

Want to point out that Wrath channel is playing a country like song, fitting given we know it’s filled of farmers and other stereotypical country stuff.

We’re getting our “Princess Bride” scene!!!!!

Mille gives Mortal Kombat’s Scorpion a round for his money on, I mean she pulls out people’s skulls and spines WAY better then him.

She literally just turned a shark into sushi XD

After all that, I would have just killed Crimson, and maybe Chaz, so they can’t cause future problem especially when they already have tons of enemies but that’s just me. At least I could see them returning in interesting ways but more on that later.

It honestly wasn’t surprising to see Loona still in that chair, heck I bet she could stay in any chair for weeks without having the need to get up.

NO KEEP THE HELL-ICOPTER GUYS! That would have been cool to have for later.

I don’t think Chaz is dead, however without his teeth I bet he wished he was.

Actually thinking back, I’m surprise that though he is a shark demon, he can’t regrow teeth like an actual shark. It makes me wonder if other animal like demons lack traits the actual animal has, like I could see bee demons being able to use their stingers without fear of it coming off naturally.

Another episode, another Hell enemy for I.M.P. though I do see this leading to a good episode.

(watching credits) DAMMIT Chaz is dead. Why couldn’t it be Striker! I really would have liked to have seen Chaz return with not only dentures to replace his missing teeth, but also trying the same plan on Helsa Von Eldritch in a Hazbin Hotel episode. I feel like this potential episode would have been a growing moment for Charlie who discover Chaz’s plans, and though she hates Helsa (showing similar traits to how her father hates people like Adam or Michael in that episode which are pointed out by the characters) she puts it aside and helps Helsa realize she is being used and maybe while the two still hate each other, there is some respect between them as maybe Helsa does something that helps the Hotel.

Another good episode that is fitting with this season’s theme of expanding more on the character’s backstories, though this one is the best so far. All the positives about the episode are the same as previous episodes so I’m going straight to the negatives.

Though I do like how Millie got some good screen time, I wish we could have explored more about her in it, like what if she always had a bad reaction when dealing with exes EVEN when said ex tries to be friendly with her?  It also would have been nice and fitting with her character if she tried to bond with Crimson during the episode or again figure out his plan’s with Moxxie and instantly tries to stop it.

As I mentioned in my Helluva Boss EXPO literature, I didn’t like Blitzo being in another episode that really would have been better off as a Moxxie and Mille only episode. I recently watched a DCAU Justice League/JLU review and it went over how though it was about a team, not every team member appeared in every episode which was a plus as it gave stories where the problem couldn't be solve in 5 minutes because this specific character was there but also gave us interesting character interactions and dedicated screen time for said characters. It would be nice to see that later on in Helluva Boss in some way. Same with how Crimson being another bad father since we’ve gotten plenty of those. Again I know bad parents is a theme in Vivzies’s shows but I think it be nice to get more “variety” like that headcanon I made about Moxxie’s father being an actor, but more on that in my eventual Helluva Boss rewrite. It IS happening but there is no big rush right now, which gives me time to focus on other things I need to catch up on. I at least hope HH’s Lucifer isn't like that as it would be nice if he was a character who loves Charlie but strongly think her redemption idea should be stopped as along with how he feels like his pride is being attacked a bit, he is scared of her failing and maybe because of something else as I suggested in my HH season 1 premiere post.

At least Crimson’s personality could lead to an interesting future episode where he tries to get revenge on Moxxie and especially Millie, which would hurt Moxxie more. He’d be perfect for the antagonist of my episode idea where Moxxie and Millie go and spend time with Millie’s family, as Crimson has orchestrated the events that led Millie’s father Joe in a bad position and unknowingly lures Moxxie to him in order to get out of it. Of course seeing how Crimson treats Moxxie, and realizing he isn’t going to let him go and plans on hurting Millie next, Joe goes back on his deal and the two (along with Millie and her other family members) defeat Crimson who I could see dying of natural causes because he refused to give up on getting back at Moxxie. This episode could also make Millie’s parents finally accept Moxxie as one of the family and maybe Moxxie starts seeing Joe as a new father figure.

This episode was worth the long wait, and luckily Spring starts soon so hopefully episode 4 will come out soon. I have to say I’m excited for the upcoming Blitzo centered episodes as they guarantee to give us some good stuff.

What are your thoughts on the episode?