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bonbonly · 21 days ago

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𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when I'm down on my knees, you're how I pray - when bishop!max decides to stay for the christmas festivities, chapter!charles leclerc finds it harder to hide his true religion: you. (this is a continuation of Temptation) 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, slapping, p in v, fingering, lactation, oral (m receiving), stoning, almost burning at the stake. this fic contains heavy catholic themes/guilt, and also includes angst and redemption. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.4k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on popular demand, i've made the sequel for Temptation! (read it if you haven't already!) writing this series made me a charles girlie omg

from the light through the cathedral's glass windows, the heavenly father centered his glory around the statue of virgin mary carrying her holy son, the loving baby jesus. above the ledge from where you stood, you glimpsed down to see the swarm of people shuffling into the main altar, getting on their knees as your child's father offered the lord's blessings to each loyal devotee. you watched the gentle smile on his face as he bowed his head, forming a cross on his chest with his hands. a soft amen fell from his lips, his eyes creased together as he giggled at something a child had said to him. his soft nature contrasted his demeanor towards you every night when he snuck into the attic to deliver another basket of bread and milk. he was a different man past the hours of the cathedral, the devil himself. you glanced down to your blissfully asleep bundle of joy in your arms, his tiny hands wrapped your finger as you gently rocked him back and forth. you could've loved the being in your arms had it not been out of a horrendous union that brought you turmoil more than love. you could've had the heart to smother him in kisses like any mother would to their child, to gift him every joy in the world had he been born to a man that you loved.

"you look cold, here have my cloak," charles leaned forward to kiss your forehead, draping the fabric over your shoulders. his head nestled onto your shoulder, ignoring the disdainful expression on your face. both your eyes fell down to your son, his soft coos echoing in the dark room where charles stored his obsessions. love was not in his vocabulary. for if he loved you, you knew he would let you go. charles gave your cheek a soft kiss, letting his warm lips linger on your cold skin, so that you could understand he would always be a part of you. a reminder of your new life as the mother to his child, another servant of god. your shoulders sagged at the declaration inside your head: this was your life. this was how you would spend the rest of your years. buried away in a dark attic where no man shall ever know of you existence - save your son - and you would rot away without the luxury of having a stable family. you envied your friends who were married and had a robust family tree, a dozen children to their name which they had wanted willingly. charles could see the sadness in your eyes, the way your head cast downwards with tears rolling down your cheeks. his breath hitched when the rays of light shone down on you; he saw the weeping virgin stand before him for a split second, her pain from the earthly world, from him. his eyes cast down to his child giggling with his arms outstretched for his father, and charles picked up the infant.

"leo is looking very healthy," he whispered, his eyes flickering to you for confirmation. you slowly nodded your head, your gaze transfixed onto the stone cracks. "i expect some words from you, mon ange."

"he is very healthy," you murmured, slowly lifting your gaze to face his. his eyes hardened into a glare, not happy with your attitude as of late. you acted as if it was the end of the world. what better pleasure would a woman such as yourself have if not being a servant of the lord, the mother to his child, his only possession far greater than the rosary he hung around his neck. he placed his son in the wooden cradle secretly made a long time ago when he first learned you were pregnant, and he grabbed hold of your arm to have you stand on your feet. his fingers dug into your jaw, forcing you to stare at him,

"what is wrong with you? have you forgotten your duties?" he questioned, watching you squirm under his grasp. your pitiful attempts to push him off were swatted away with his free hand, "you could've been a whore on the streets had i not rescued you. the grace of the holy father has led you to me, this is your chance at salvation and yet you act as if you'd rather live in perdition than with the heaven i have gifted you!"

he watched your tears collect onto his fingers, those rosy lips of yours now a small pout. he sighed out loud, repenting for his mistake of treating you so harshly and he leaned down to capture your lips into a kiss.

"oh, ma chère reine, come now. i am only doing this for your good," he kissed away your tears, caressing your face with his thumb. "it is not good for you to cry, i hate to see you cry. i only want to ever see you happy, n'est-ce pas vrai?"

your response is ignored as he sweeps you off your feet, carrying you to the bed he had placed besides the cradle. there was a small curtain that separated the "room" between yours and your son. charles laid you onto the mattress as if you were a dandelion, at any second you could be blown away out of his arms. his lips found your forehead once more, his touch gentle that for a moment, you were fooled into thinking that maybe he did love you. maybe, despite all the horrible things he had done to you, you could be safe in his arms. with parted lips, he cradled your face in his hands to pepper your face with kisses. your weeping eyes, your red nose, those cold cheeks and those rosy lips that always beckoned to him like the devil that you once were. his lips traveled down your neck, providing your bosom with open-mouthed kisses that were sure to leave marks. you were his, and had it not been his fate to serve for the lord, he would've married you as soon as your belly swelled with his child. it would've been a child out of wedlock and it still was but he didn't really care, but you were a mother. a beautiful mother that gave birth to such an extraordinary child. he undid your corset, letting the fabric slide down as his fingers popped through the strings of your shirt, revealing your swollen tits, already leaking with your milk.

the cross on the valley of your breasts was now a pale scar, and his fingers ghosted over the memories of events precisely a year ago. when he made you his. you weren't even looking at him, your attention on the curtain with your son's soft snores flooding the room. it sickened you that there was no comfort anywhere. charles rolled your nipples around with his thumbs, applying pressure on your hardening peaks as your milk trickled down gently. he squeezed them, leaving his mouth wide open to catch your strays. you always tasted so good. he almost envied his own child for being able to nurse off of you. he moved to nestle himself between your legs, hiking the skirt up. he kissed your ankles, using his free hand to push your panties to the side. spitting onto your cunt, he watched his own saliva glide down your folds, spilling onto the bed beneath the both of you. he would've taken his time with you had he not been occupied with his role as the chapter priest, but nonetheless his throbbing cock was free from its confines and he pushed into your velvety walls, groaning at the sensation. even after birthing a child, you still felt so good. so warm. you felt like home to him. he rocked his hips against yours, smiling when you finally broke your vow of silence to moan out loud and he leaned over to capture your areola in his mouth, drinking up the milk you had to offer him. his thrusts were always sharp, burying himself to the hilt to ensure that even without him filling you up, you'd always feel him inside.

"si parfait et tout à moi," he whispered, tilting his head up to watch you throw your head, completely gone in pleasure. he wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body flush against him, his cock drilling into you with fervor. "that's it, you can cum for me..."

that's all you needed to let yourself go, lips parting into an oval shape as you let out a guttural moan, sobbing into his arms. he silenced your whimpers with his lips, his cock still pummeling into you with erratic thrusts that signaled his climax was approaching. his goal was to fill you up again and again, hoping you'd be able to grow his family. you were so beautiful like this, slumped out against the bed, completely spent. upon hearing leo fussing, he dressed himself up quickly and scooped the baby up in his arms. you deserved some rest anyway.

"you have such a beautiful mother, you are so lucky leo. the lord has bestowed everything you ever need to you, un garçon vraiment très chanceux" he smiled. your eyes traveled up to the debilitated ceiling, unsure if your body could take the toll of having any more children. leo's birth was so tiresome, and it didn't help that you were kept as a secret. charles had acted as if he wasn't the actual father of the child, and he had your face covered so that no one could see that you were back from the supposed dead. you barely had time to recover from giving birth when charles immediately placed you on the wagon to head back to the cathedral. it was a nightmare you never wanted to relive ever again.

charles had left you and the baby to sleep, locking the door behind him. he trusted you enough not to try and escape him, but he knew for sure if you were willing to stay with him. the lord worked in mysterious ways, and perhaps his doubts were best to be cleared after a few hours of prayer. as he descended the back staircase, he passed by father gasly's cell who grinned at the sight of his friend.

"father leclerc! i was just wondering where you could've gone, mon cher ami, you almost could've missed it!" the french man slapped his hand onto charles' back, guiding him down the hallway.

"missed what?"

"bishop max is coming to spend christmas week with us. he was issued by the pope to see how large the spirit is during the holidays," father gasly explained, and charles rolled his eyes. since the day he joined the church, he'd always hated max. it didn't help that max had such close connections to the former pope at such a young age. if charles was the golden boy to his church, max was the son of the catholic religion. it was so clear that in another 10 years, max would become the pope one day. charles hated him for it, he already saw what was going to happen: max would come over and gloat in his face. he always used to beat him to prayer, getting the guidance offered by the senior priests first and charles would get the crumbs. he sucked his teeth, stepping into the main altar to find archdeacon vasseur laughing along with a man in a pointed hat, a cane in his hand that he tossed from one side to another. the archdeacon glanced over the man's shoulder to see charles, a wide grin on his face as he greeted the young man.

"ah, father leclerc! look who has brought glory to our cathedral with his presence!" the old man laughed, and charles' jaw went taut at the sight of max standing there, a crooked smile on his lips.

"ah, father leclerc! such a pleasure to see you again!" max's accent was still as thick as charles last remembered,

"good to see you again bishop verstappen," charles bowed his head slightly, feeling all his anger boil up to his head. he bit his tongue, remembering father bozzi's words from a year ago: never let your emotions get the best of you. keep that tongue of yours in check. charles clutched onto his rosary, hoping the holy cross would burn into his palm so that he would remain silent.

"you may call me father, no need for even more formalities," max laughed, "now i haven't been to this cathedral in quite some times. looks a bit worn, does it not?"

"we have so many visitors that our focus is mainly on them," charles snapped, ignoring the blatant side-eye father gasly was giving his friend. max raised an eyebrow, a hint of an amused smirk on his lips,

"i suppose so. i might need to go around this entire place. do some checks and see what could be added before christmas. pope hamilton said this place was one of the holiest in the world, and it ought to look like it." max adjusted his hat, glancing around the altar with an indifferent expression on his face. using his cane, he pushed charles to the side before walking off.

"what did pope hamilton see in him to promote him to bishop?" charles seethed, and father gasly nudged him with his elbow,

"father leclerc, jealousy does not suit you. if he heard you, he'd have you-"

"let him hear, i don't care. walking into my church and acting like he owns the place," he scoffed.

"your church?" father gasly snickered, "is this church not in the rightful ownership of the holy father? you don't own anything save your bible and rosary."

charles stared at his friend with a very dark expression on his face. he did have ownership. maybe not to the church, but definitely you and your child. he held his tongue, moving towards the altar to get onto his knees and pray. the father from the heavens had to ensure nothing bad would happen with max's presence. christmas was only a few days away, and the last thing charles' needed was a reflection on his cruel actions. no matter how many times he convinced himself that he was doing the world good by having you as his personal whore, he still felt like something was amiss. the light from the cross above him always seemed to dim when he stood before the altar. the organs did not sing the same tunes it once did when he pressed his fingers upon the keys. a mystery that he could not understand. the rosary around his neck reflected the light from the glass panels, right onto his heart. his eyes were closed, however, blind as always to the message the lord gave him.

max had past the hallway to the individual cells for the priests, but his eyes quickly caught hold of the staircase that was covered in sooth and dust. he frowned, running his fingers over the railings and recoiled in disgust at the dirt that stained his pale skin. he shook it off and grabbed his cane, tapping at the wood to make it wouldn't collapse onto him if he decided to climb the staircase. when his checks were through, he carefully ascended up to the top of the cathedral where the gargoyles slept peacefully. the bell-ringers were out for break so he wouldn't have to deal with their thousand questions. from what he could see, it was an open empty space, a clear view to the village down below. there was a room at the end of the passageway that had a few windows. he assumed it was for the bell-ringers to take short breaks and was about to head back downstairs when he heard a slight hum travel through the air. he circled back to the room, taking note of the lock on the door. pressing his ear against the door, he could hear a baby laughing while another voice sang soft lullabies. max moved to the window, peering through the bars to see you sitting on the ground, holding your son up as you took note of the way his legs scrunched together. you bent down to kiss his nose, watching his little face light up.

"didn't know the church held its own nursery here," max watched you stare at him with wide eyes, fear in your features as you held your baby firmly against your chest, his little head nestled in your neck.

"w-who are you? h-how... what are you doing here?" you questioned. even the bell-ringers had never come over. charles had convinced them all that they could do their duty one floor down. the well kept secret was now in the hands of a man you didn't even know.

"no need to fear me, schat." he smiled, "i'm bishop verstappen. i've come here to celebrate christmas with your church."

there was some sort of an edge in his voice, something that you could not explain. you glanced around your room, trying to avoid his sharp gaze. you never realized how suffocating this room really was until now. you set leo back down in his cradle, feeling your back being burned just being in his line of sight.

"you live here?" max inquired, the sound of his cane raking against the bars of the window making you clutch your ears. the metal scraping brought back horrid memories of the confines charles had you in, the whip of air as the flog drew red marks on your tits. you clutched your chest, still feeling the edge of the rosary being dragged on your skin to form the cross.

"y-yes," you breathed out, peering over your shoulder to see what new devil was at your doorstep. he frowned, tilting his head,

"interesting. and who knows about you? other than me of course."

you debated on telling him the truth. should you tell him the events from a year ago? but what if he was just as bad as charles? what if he found out you were originally a heretic and wanted to kill you? you gulped, deciding to play safe in the moment, "father leclerc, but he is nice enough to gift me bread and milk for the baby and i. aside from him, no one else knows."

"father leclerc does charity work? that's new of him," max snickered, "he keeps you locked away in here, though. do you offer him service for his hospitality?"

"n-no," you whispered, gulping, "none of that kind."

"a child out of wedlock," max pointed towards the cradle where leo was fast asleep, "and father leclerc has pitied you for it? he never was the type to do so. he was always stuck up from what i remember."

"he has changed."

"very much so indeed." max's lips formed into a thin line, "well, i shall see to it that you are free from your confines. a woman such as yourself should have the right to roam around this cathedral freely. as long as no one sees your baby, you should be safe." had he known the truth of your situation, you knew he wouldn't have been so kind to you. you nodded your head, listening to his footsteps fade away. you collapsed onto your bed, head in your hands as you thought about what would happen if charles came to hear of this.

charles was listening to a father lament about his dying son, torn between wanting to give him a proper burial but not having enough money to do so. he furrowed his brows, feeling sympathetic towards the man and he took off one of the rings given to him a long time ago by his late father. it was made out of gold, and he usually wouldn't have parted with it but he figured his father would rather the ring be used for something good than just an accessory. he dropped the ring into the palm of the man's hand and bowed his head,

"it is not quite equal to your son's burial but as stated from genesis 23:6 - none of us will withhold from you his tomb to hinder you from burying your dead," charles began, watching the man's face light up, "bury your son with the money the ring offers. if one dares question you, bring him to me and i shall discuss with him. may the lord guide your son's soul to the heavens. i shall send a chaplain soon to your quarters for his last rites."

the man held onto charles' hand, kissing it gently with tears in his eyes, "thank you, father leclerc. thank you, thank you. the holy father has done us all great service by having you among us."

charles' chest tightened at his words, a sensation that became more frequent these days. guilt was eating him alive, but he did not know why. he knew he was continuing the lord's work, being a very devout servant. but in the back of his mind, he remembered you all alone up in that cold room with leo, the sad look in your eyes. he watched the man exit the tall doors of the cathedral, and he caught hold of the statue of virgin mary carrying the infant jesus. his chest tightened once more, remembering the weeping virgin he saw in your eyes earlier. right when he was about to head back to his cell, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. much to his dismay, it was bishop verstappen and charles rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek.

"father verstappen, did you have a nice tour of our church?" charles glared at him, wanting to make his disgust extremely evident.

"mhm, very nice. i just didn't think you to be so charitable. giving away your father's ring just like that?" max sighed,

"i had nothing to bury my father in when he passed away. i only wish for this man's son to not suffer the same fate. everyone deserves to be buried," charles responded.

"tsk, tsk, tsk, you have gotten much softer, father leclerc, last i remember you were very keen on banishing my soul to hell if given the opportunity."

"that hasn't changed, actually. i'm just trying to be cordial since pope hamilton sent you here." charles growled, "charity is a good thing."

"i never argued with you about it, i'm just surprised the extent to which your charity goes." max narrowed his eyes, "and in the name of charity, i hope you haven't abused your rights as a servant to the lord. the kleine duif wishes to escape her cage. don't keep dogs tied up for too long."

charles gaped in horror as max walked off with a knowing smirk. he straightened his shoulders, glancing up to the ceiling of the cathedral before grabbing his rosary and heading up the back staircase. unbeknownst to him, max saw the chapter priest swiftly ascending the staircase and the bishop laughed to himself, realizing that he had charles exactly where he needed him to be: beneath him at all costs. the pretty dove upstairs was a sight for sore eyes, and by no means was max a perfect man. he had flaws, too. as any man would. years of celibacy could not be easily achieved in this modern world. not when women such as yourself always tempted the innocent priests into sin. he wondered if charles had ever touched you, ever marked you as his. there was no way he wouldn't have, but charles was always known for being so perfect and prudish that it wasn't far out of the question to assume that he was only helping you and nothing else.

charles had unlocked the door to your room, his chest heaving in anger as he saw you laying on your bed with those empty, forlorn eyes. he slammed the door behind him, marching over to see you sitting up on the bed with a finger to your lips.

"you'll wake the baby," you chastised him, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you to him,

"did anyone see you?" he hissed, "answer the truth. if you lie to me, i won't hesitate to have you punished for your disobedience to me."

you swallowed, thickly and shook your head slowly. he could see your eyes gloss over, the rosary shining in your eyes. he grabbed your hair and yanked it backwards, disregarding your pained whimpers,

"do. not. lie. to. me." he punctuated each word with a slap to your face. you bottom lip quivered, your scowl deepening, "tell me the truth. who saw you here? was it max?" he would never give the title to a man he hated, much less the respect he deserved.

"max saw me," and you brought out your hands to try and calm charles down, "b-but i didn't tell him anything. i only said that you had me here to save me from the outside world. you were giving me a place to hide my baby and me!"

he raised an eyebrow, "and how should i believe you?"

"you have to trust me, charles!" you begged, growing frustrated at his lack of respect for you, "if i wanted to jeopardize your future at this church i would've done that a long time ago!"

"oh, really?" charles laughed bitterly, "so you've thought about that before have you not? is that what you're telling me?"

"charles, no!" you cried out, struggling to escape his firm grip in your hair, "you're not listening to me! the door was still locked, all max did was ask who i was and i lied to him! he does not know about our arrangement, he does not know anything!"

"get on your knees," charles hauled you off the bed, dragging you onto the stone floor, "open that mouth of yours. unless your mouth serviced me, i'll assume you have used it to speak lies."

you groaned out loud, clamping your mouth shut as you glared at him. that defiance, that anger in your eyes. he'd last seen it when he first captured you. if looks could kill.

"open your mouth, espèce de petit diable," he commanded, his voice brooking no disobedience. "take my cock into your lying mouth and let it purify your wicked tongue." he pressed the swollen, throbbing head of his cock against your lips, rocking his hips to let his cock slide against your sealed mouth. his fingers tightened in your hair, yanking it harshly and when you cried out in pain, he slipped his cock inside your throat, giving you no space to breathe as he began to fuck your throat harshly. tears streamed down your cheek, your drool seeping down your chin as you stared at him with pure hatred in your eyes. he took note of the expression on your face and he snarled as he forced your head to the base of his cock, your nose pressed against his pelvis.

"take the holy sacrament deep in your lying throat. let it purify your wicked soul." He held you there, buried to the hilt, as he ground his hips against your face, his heavy balls slapping against your chin. "god commands it," he panted, his voice filled with lust, "you cannot deny his will. you cannot refuse your sacred duty to serve his servant, to serve me."

you struggled to swallow all of his cum when he came, coughing and gagging uncontrollably, spluttering out his semen. you watched him tuck his cock back in his robes, grabbing your hair once more so that you could look at him, "let this be a reminder, mon cœur, i won't be so forgiving next time. no one sees you, no one other than leo and me." and with that, he stormed out of the room and locked the door. you laid on the ground with a hoarse throat, sobbing on the floor. was this the "lord's" method of punishing you for being a heretic? in what world was this supposed to make you love the holy father? your questions are silenced by the exhaustion that took over your body. your bitterness was only heightened when you noticed how leo was still fast asleep. the plump baby always slept without a care in the world after he had his dose of your milk. you wished you could sleep in peace like that.

it was a rule that after you misbehaved, you would have to seek forgiveness from the holy father. the only way to do this was to walk with charles down to the main altar very late at night when everyone was asleep. he took note of your busted lip from his abuse earlier in the day, running his thumb over your bottom lip as you winced in pain. he muttered a soft apology, kissing your forehead before taking leo from your arms. you needn't burden yourself so much, besides your only focus should be on being forgiven for your sins. while you moved forward to begin your prayer, father gasly had woken up from his sleep to grab some water when he saw charles holding a baby in his hands. he frowned, approaching the latter,

"father leclerc, whose child is that?" he asked, and charles was just about ready to punch his friend. having to explain himself out of this one would be quite difficult. charles glanced down at his son, taking note of his peaceful features. his little fingers were wrapped around charles' forefinger, and he smiled at the sight. it reminded him of the older man from earlier in the day, asking to bury his son. charles' felt the air in his lungs freeze for a split second, imagining if he would have to do the same for his little boy in the future. it was a thought that scared him. he never wanted to lose leo, he never wanted to lose you. he inhaled, sharply and looked up at father gasly,

"i saw this little boy at an orphanage. i didn't have the heart to leave him out there in the cold so i took him in. he's beautiful isn't he?" charles' cooed, kissing leo's nose.

in the meantime, you had gotten to your knees and clasped your hands together. no matter how many times charles taught you how to pray, it never was an easy task. not when you still refused to believe in the existence of a higher being. if such a god existed, why didn't he save you? why would he have let you be tormented like this? you stared at the cross, tears welling up in your eyes at how hopeless everything seemed. you casted your eyes downwards, remembering what charles had said to you months before when you were faced complications in your pregnancy. your eyes had to be hidden. no one should know about your existence. no one should recognize.

"and if in the case someone meets your eyes, and sees you as (y/n) (l/n) the whore who used to dance in festivals and preach hersey with her followers, i shall find a diamond-encrusted dagger and gouge your eyes out so that no one shall remember what you used to look like..." charles' words echoed in your ears. you shook as you pretended to pray, your head empty with silence surrounding you. you felt a presence besides you, and you turned to tell charles that you had finished your prayer when instead you faced max.

"he's finally let you out, what a surprise," he whispered. you snapped your head back to the cross, your breathing now rapid as you tried to calm yourself. he took note of the way your breasts - from the small glimpse he had under your cloak - rose and fell in quick successions. "schatje, i've told you before, you need not fear me. i won't do anything to you."

"i cannot risk it. i cannot bring attention to myself," you whispered, and max rolled his eyes,

"there's barely anyone awake at this hour. come, i know a good place." he held out his hand, standing up on his feet. you hesitantly accepted his offer, finding it strange that he was treating you so kindly. he was asking, rather than demanding. you knew following max into the confession booth would land you in much more trouble tonight, but sat down besides you with a very soft look in those blue eyes. "here, you can tell me anything, schatje. how did you end up here? who is your child's father? whatever you wish to tell me you can."

perhaps it was out of desperation to finally have someone to properly talk to, but you revealed everything to max. you told him about your previous life, you told him how charles was obsessed with you, how he fucked a prostitute dreaming about you and how he burned your house down when your parents were away, kidnapping you and storing you away in the top of the cathedral in that hidden room to teach you the bible. you told him of your baby leo, how he had your eyes. you cared for the baby, but you could never bring yourself to love him. you sighed out loud after finishing your tale, staring at max as you waited for his reaction. he merely licked his lips, leaning his head back on the wall of the booth as he processed your tale.

"so the baby... is charles'. i knew the bastard wasn't pure," he chuckled, dryly. your face fell, having expected him to say something else. you were oblivious to their rivalry, already caught up in your own misfortunes. max tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, "ah, my poor lady, you have gone through so much. what all did he teach you?"

"he used to read the-" you stopped when you saw max shake his head,

"no, no, not about the bible. what did he teach you in bed?" he pried your lips open with his thumb, letting your mouth envelop around his digit as you began to suck. "such a good little slut, fuck... i can see why he chose you. i have to give it to him."

"for christ's sake, pierre," charles snapped out of the formality he usually gave his friend, "pierre, snap out of it. the baby was abandoned, no more questions out of you." he was still stuck up in the cell of father gasly, rolling his eyes at the millionth question he had to answer.

"oh come on, charles," pierre scoffed, dropping his act of formality as well, "it's a cute baby. what awful creature would leave this baby to die?" he turned to face the infant, peppering his little face with kisses before pressing his cheek against his own, "can i keep the baby, charles? he's so cute."

"he's not a dog, pierre. he's my-" charles paused, clearing his throat before continuing, "he's an infant."

"an infant abandoned so close to christmas! and he has come to our church! is this a sign from the lord?" pierre asked, and charles' shoulders sagged. he ran his hands over his face,

"pierre, give the infant back to me. i assure you, it's..." charles paused, picking up max's voice from the distance, "is that father verstappen?"

"possibly, i've been told he likes walking around churches at night since the lord has a different ambience then... isn't that right, leo?" pierre cooed, nuzzling his nose against the baby's face. the infant merely giggled in response, trying to grab onto the chaplain's nose. charles bit his lower lip, the realization of having left you alone at the altar crossing his mind. he smacked his hand on his forehead, hurrying out of the cell.

"wait, the baby!" pierre called out, and charles shook his head,

"you can take care of leo for the night," and he hurried down the hallway, grabbing a candle. his fingers looped through the hole of its holder, and he stormed around the dark cathedral, spinning in circles to see where you could've gone. you weren't in front of the cross, you weren't in the aisles. he stopped for a moment, hearing the squelching of juices coming from the confession booth. he could see a small candle through the holes, the shadows of two bodies dancing together like the flames before him. charles' heart sank for a moment, praying that it wasn't you. it shouldn't be you. you were his, only his. he swung open the door to the confessional, and saw a sight that burned his eyes.

max had the top of your dress bunched down to your waist, his lips wrapped around your nipple, drinking your lavish milk while your greedy cunt sucked his fingers. your head thrown back as you let out soft moans, bucking into his hand as his palm rubbed against your clit. max released your tit with a pop, licking his lips as beads of your milk dribbled down his chin and he brought his mouth to kiss your jaw. he was grinning like a madman, eyes snapping to face charles' anguished expression and he picked up his pace, curling his fingers inside you, scissoring your poor cunt as you let out strangled moans, trying to be quiet. you squirted all over max's fingers, your juices coating the walls of the confessional, breathing heavy.

"the dove's quite the slut, father leclerc," max snorted, "so beautiful and perfect. she'd be my personal whore if i took her with me back to rome," he smiled, licking his fingers and sucking on them to relish your taste. "oh schat, you taste amazing."

"get the fuck out of here," charles hissed, jerking his thumb to the side. max slid you off his lap, standing up and straightening his robe. he pushed past charles, placing his cane at charles' neck,

"she told me everything. you're lucky you're loved so deeply by this church, or i would've convinced them to throw you out a long time ago," he threatened, letting the edge of the cane dig into charles' chest. the sharp pain made him grit his teeth, and when max left to return to his special quarters, charles' dark eyes slowly turned to you. you were shaking in the corner of the confessional, hooking the sleeves of your dress back up your shoulder as you got to your knees,

"charles please, i didn't mean it... it just happened so suddenly, i don't know how to-" a sharp sting bloomed on your cheek as your head snapped to the side. charles' shook his hand, the crack of his lap even hurting him. he looked at you with such disgust,

"i should've known... the devil hasn't left you, has she? she's stored in your heart, n'est-ce pas vrai putain?" he pressed his finger against the scar on your chest, forcing you back up against the wall. his hand shot out to grab your throat, dragging you out of the confessional and onto the aisle. your head hit against the wooden furniture, your temples throbbing in pain as you felt him bunch up the skirt to your dress. without much preparation, he thrusted himself in you in one-go, clamping your mouth shut to silence your screams. he did not care if he was defiling you right in front of the holy cross. this would be a mistake you'd never make ever again. he was your rightful owner, not max. his fingers dug into your hips, hips snapping against yours as he continued to drill his cock into your overstimulated cunt your previous orgasm had still left you in a daze because of max's skilled fingers, and now with charles' cock ravaging you, you were crying and begging for him to have mercy on you. your tits were leaking with milk, your body unable to control the sensations you were feeling. charles' hands groped your tits, squeezing your milk out for his tongue to catch and soon he flipped you onto your stomach, bringing his cock right back into your spent pussy. your gummy walls tightened around him, trying to push him out but it only motivated him to drive further into you. he grabbed your hair, yanking your head to face him as your back arched.

"why can't you see it?" charles hissed, slapping your ass firmly, "why can you never understand? you belong to me! only me! you're mine!" and with each thrust of his hips, his hold on you was loosening. you were sobbing onto the carpeted floors of the cathedral, burying your face in your arms as his cock stretched your unwilling walls into oblivion. "how many times do i have to prove myself to you?"

charles' dropped his head down to the back of your neck, his weight pushed onto you as he continued to snap his hips relentlessly. you could feel tears on your back. charles' tears. "why can't you understand?" he whimpered, wrapping your throat with his hand as he brought you closer to him, "will nothing i do satisfy you? what more should i do?"

his words didn't make sense to you, and you couldn't follow along with what he was getting at. not when he was destroying your poor cunt like this. he pulled out of you just shortly after you silently screamed, cumming around his cock and instead flipped you onto your back so that you could face him. his cock was still achingly hard, the tip all red and angry, waiting to cum. a needy moan escaped his lips, his hands fighting the urge to finish himself off, to let his cum coat your skin. but he was denying himself. instead, he glanced down at you as began to sob,

"you know how much i love you?" he whispered, and your eyes widened, realizing that he had finally said the words you knew he would never feel, "my love for you... i love you... i love you so much. why can't you...." he took in a shaky breath, standing up and confining his cock inside his robes, "i love you so much. i just want to be with you, to be loved by you. i love you so much, why can you never see it?"

since charles' confessions, he distanced himself away from you as much as he could. he'd give sermons and return to his cell. the door to your room was permanently unlocked, giving you access to roam around the cathedral as much as you pleased. it was a stark difference from the man you once knew, and you didn't know if he finally cleared his soul, or if this was a storm brewing. father gasly took care of leo so often that you felt free from the confines of being a mother. charles' would escort you to pierre's cell, insisting that a proper woman could only take care of a child even though the both of you knew it was just so that your son still remembered who his mother was. you'd walk the hallways of the cathedral at night, admiring the various statues and glass panels up close, taking note of its details. charles would stand in a corner, never once meeting your eyes. the thought of even touching you made his skin crawl. his chest always felt heavy, a newfound burden taking a toll on his body with each step that he took around the cathedral. the light on the holy cross no longer dimmed when he stood before it, instead it shined brighter. a chance for redemption, but he did not know how to gain your forgiveness. everything that he had done to you finally freed his clouded thoughts; he was a monster. he was the very devil he had claimed to have seen in you. his lust brought his own ruins, he felt ill every time he gave a sermon about avoiding all sins. he'd whimper in his sleep, feeling like a kicked puppy as he replayed the nights where he'd keep you awake to satisfy his carnal urges. he'd wake up more frequently at night, crying to himself at how unfit he was to be a chapter priest. he should be publicly stoned to death for what he had done. he always felt more than he should, father bozzi always told him that. it surely didn't help his emotions when he saw bishop verstappen talking with you more frequently in the darkness of the night. you were opening up to him more often, actually smiling and enjoying his presence, in a way that you never did with charles. he deserved it, rightfully so. he'd shuffle back to his cell, taking leo into his arms from father gasly and would hum some small lullabies to usher the infant back to sleep. he could not stare at the statue of virgin mary anymore, could not stand to see the imagery of the weeping virgin. he brought this upon you. it was all his fault. he had to make it up to you, but he just didn't know how exactly.

bishop verstappen had slipped a piece of paper to charles to watch out for something important later in the day, a special early christmas present for the chapter priest. it was the morning of christmas eve, most of the people were getting ready to settle with their family for the night. the church had been fully decorated, the bell ringers coming with big wide smiles on their faces as they ran to and fro, getting small gifts from the archdeacon for their work throughout the year. charles had let the church discover leo's existence the night before, letting each of the divisions of priests fawn over his "adopted" son as they put it.

"commendable charity work," father sainz smiled, "you really know how to represent what christmas is really about." and charles smiled, thinly.

you had followed bishop verstappen into the streets of your village. the bright light so foreign to you after so long. you brought your cloak over your face, watching the small children run around. some of the faces you recognized as your neighbors' children, the very ones you'd laugh and play with after you finished your work at your stall. you smiled warmly at the memories, laughing as they nearly bumped into you in excitement for some magic show happening around the corner. the sounds of families giggling and embracing each other on the streets made you miss your own parents. you had to know what happened to them. what would they think if they saw their daughter well and alive. and your friends! frederick, oscar, all of them! you knew they must've missed you. you turned to max, grinning at him as you held onto his hand,

"i want to see my parents. they have to be here." but you failed to see the way his arm recoiled at your touch, the way he stared at you as if he had something far sinister in his mind. he merely pulled off the hood of your clock and with an accusatory finger, shouted at your face,

"the witch! she's a witch! she's back from the dead!"

charles had been on the second floor of the cathedral, pressing the keys to the organ to entertain his son who looked at the instrument in awe. he nearly missed the yelling downstairs if he hadn't stopped toying with the organ. he glanced down to the main altar to find bishop verstappen waiting downstairs with his hands behind his back, a grin on his face. charles could feel that something was wrong, but nevertheless, he approached his enemy.

"what's going on outside? a commotion?" charles' inquired, patting leo's back as he bounced the infant in his arms a couple of times. he took note of the crowd outside the gates to the cathedral and he furrowed his brows, moving to investigate before max grasped onto his shoulder.

"you're free from the devil, father leclerc." max smiled and charles scowled,

"what do you mean?"

"you have such an esteemed reputation at this church," max scoffed, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of charles, "we wouldn't want to ruin it. no one knows about this child, you can't keep the truth hidden forever. so you get rid of the truth."

"i... i'm not following along, what?"

"for fuck's sake," max groaned, shaking his head, "i accused her of being a witch, of coming back from the dead. she'll be burned at the stake later today, and you can thank me for it. all your guilt, all your lustful thoughts, all of it will be gone if she's gone. perfect, is it not? i would've kept her as my personal slut like i said earlier, but there's bound to be a million other women like her."

"are you insane?" charles yelled, startling leo who began to cry, "who asked of this from you? she... she trusted you!" he gulped, thinking about how you must've felt at this moment. putting your trust into a man after he had ruined everything for you, only for this cunt to betray you so openly in front of everyone. charles' anger knew no bounds and he shoved max to the side, storming out of the church to see the sight of you on a stick, hoisted into the air. your head hung low, bruises all over your body after being being stoned and flogged accordingly to your crime. charles' gasped out loud, pushing past the crowd to see them bring you over to the pile of hay in the center of the town square, ready to set fate. he watched the other priests, ones that he knew so well, cheer on for this heretic's damnation. leo cried louder, the screams hurting his ears and charles shielded his son into his chest, and with anxious eyes faced you. with what little strength you had left in you, you glanced up to the sky with tears cascading down your cheeks, blood spilling out of the inside of your mouth and there he saw it.

no longer was the weeping virgin just a flicker of his imagination or a sight meant to fool him, she was there right before him. he could see your tears as the holy water he used in his sermons, the glow around your head ready to accept your fate. no, he couldn't do this. after everything that he had put you through, he had to redeem himself. charles would never forgive himself if he stood to the side and let everyone take advantage of you, not to the virgin mary that he worshipped every day and night.

"enough with this foolishness!" charles' bellowed, stepping onto the pile of hay as he glanced down at the crowd surrounding you. "all of you stop this nonsense!"

he took in a deep breath, waiting for each idiot to silence themselves to let him speak. "enough... what are you all doing?"

"she's a heretic!" one man cried out.

"she's come back from the dead!" another hollered.

"a witch, a witch!" the crowd chanted in unison, and charles stomped his foot and screamed,

"silence!" he took in a deep breath, glancing down to see leo staring at him with wide eyes. he always had your eyes. he gulped, tilting his head back up to face the crowd once more, "today is christmas eve. tomorrow is christmas morning. you want to mark this holy tradition with the killing of a woman? is this what our holy father has taught us?"

he watched the crowd shift awkwardly and he continued, "she has progressed much in her religious journey. she is not back from the dead. she was actually... learning the glories of our savior. listen to me, all of you, put aside your fears. she will not... she won't hurt any of us."

"then what do you expect us to do with her? she's not welcome in this village," charles' stared at the man who said this; it was your own father. he sucked his teeth in, shaking his head and sighing loudly,

"we send her to exile. she stays alive, but she shall never step foot in this village ever again." charles' declared, and despite the crowd coming to agreeance, he glanced to see you staring at him with a look of horror in your eyes. he gulped, turning his back to you as he held onto leo, hoping that the holy father would commend him for saving your life.

the wagon sat outside the back of the cathedral. it was snowing outside, too cold for leo but he had his son bundled up in the finest fabric to ensure his little toes wouldn't get frostbite. he stared at the cross from behind him. something felt... empty inside his heart. he had saved your life, but the thought of sending you to exile. it was all his fault, all of it was his fault. and no matter how long he stayed at this church, no amount of penance could save his damned soul for what he had done to you. he watched you seat yourself on the wagon, face all bruised as you weakly smiled at him.

"thank you, charles... for what you did back there." you whispered, groaning in pain as you shifted in your seat. you saw the pained expression in his eyes, and you cupped his cheek, letting him feel the warmth of you skin. "what you did charles, that was real love."

he fell to his knees at your words, tears pricking at his eyes, "no... no, don't say that. i've done awful things to you. i've been a horrible person. my lust clouded my thoughts, i... i really love you. i can't bear the thought... of... no, i can't let you leave me." he grabbed hold of your hand, bringing it to his forehead as he sobbed. his cheeks flushed into a rosy shade of red as he glanced up at you, "t-take me with you. i can't... i can't live here. not after what i've done. i'll come up with you. we can live together in a small hut, we can just be by ourselves and i'll make it up to you, i swear i will, just give me one more chance mon ange-"

"no, charles," you snapped, "no... i deserve to be free. i deserve to have the life i wanted. and as for leo..." you stretched your arms out, ready to take your infant but charles shook his head,

"i refuse. i refuse to let you go, i refuse to let you take away my son. i love both of you. just say you forgive me, say you'll take me with you."

you sighed out loud, groaning under your breath as you felt a sharp pang of pain course through your veins. you bit your lip, "i think we can come to a compromise then."

your wagon departed with your belongings. you never once looked back at charles as you left. you had said what he wanted to hear: "i forgive you. a life for a life. your debt is paid." but it wasn't enough for him. you left leo to his care, knowing that despite how he had treated you, he would never commit horrors to his child. charles could learn to properly love. you knew he had it in him. his heart was always large, always taken by emotions.

he felt too strongly. it was his curse.

he took leo back into the church, and set him down on the table right before the holy cross. he glanced up to see the holy spirit shine before him, wiping away his tears. there was still a long road for him back to salvation, but he promised that he would attain it. he would make up for all the sins that he had committed. he would spend the rest of his life craving for the love that he felt for you. if only you had stayed. the longer that he served for the church, he realized that he was wrong all along. the holy father could not save his soul no matter how hard he tried. all the countless sermons, the masses, the christmas and easter holidays, the verses from the bibles, the holy crosses, the tears from the weeping virgin, all of it was in vain.

because you were his religion.

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tetsuskei · 11 months ago

Text

synopsis: when a coworker brings their baby to work, that sets off the gears in kuroo's head to have some of your own

notes: first installment of oh, baby! repost from my old blog, with some editing done. please enjoy!

warnings: mentions of kids, unprotected sex, praise, body worship, cock warming, kuroo is horny on an astronomical level

interactions and reblogs are appreciated!

at first, everything is innocent. tetsurō knows his coworker only means well. but tetsurō should've expected that when ‘bring your child to work day’ came at the jva, that he'd encounter at least one infant.

his coworker asks him if he wants to hold their baby after catching him stare at the small child in awe. the resemblance between coworker and child clearly evident. he's so amazed at how strong genetics could be.

then tetsurō wondered how strong his own genetics would be when it came to your children.

to recall back, the conversation of children came up briefly between the two of you. you both decided that it would be logical to wait a little while before trying to have any. kuroo was focused on building up his career and so were you. you just wanted to have your priorities straight and be responsible. nothing's wrong with that, right?

and so the conversation had been left with a pin in it and you both moved on in life. you would question when to have children later.

when holding the child in his arms, kuroo only panicks for a moment (were babies always this small?) before the child naturally curls up into his chest. their tiny hand grabs ahold of his (ridiculously) large pinky before continuing to sleep soundly. they even coo with joy.

"they seem to really like you!" his coworker laughs. "you seem to be a natural with kids!"

tetsurō only crinkles his nose in confusion but he can't help the fluttering in his chest at those words. "i'm not really doing anything but holding them."

they laugh again and nod with understanding. "sure, but you seem to be the type to make a great father, kuroo-san. you're a good person. very patient and understanding. by the way, when do you and the missus plan to have kids?"

and so having been asked the question sent him on a spiral.

by the time he's asked, several years have passed since your first conversation about kids. both you and him are financially stable. you're both lucky enough to live comfortably, and you're both happy where you are in your careers. most importantly, you're both married.

honestly, just the thought of being married to you and having a little family turns kuroo on too much. but he wants to have a family that's better than the broken one he had growing up. the best thing he can do for his kids is show them a healthy and long lasting relationship with their mother. and god does he know he can do that. he loves you so damn much his heart aches. he'll walk across fire for you, and the best part is that he knows you'll do the same for him.

the man isn't really present for the rest of the day, having to be called out during a meeting for being unfocused, and eventually sent home after he lies and says he isn't feeling well. and it's partially true, because now that he knows he wants kids, he feels an empty hole in his chest almost as if a part of him is missing.

and if being 'sick' means trying to conceal the boner in his slacks, then so be it. he doesn't want to relieve himself of his problem, no. not when the only thing on his mind is cumming inside of you raw.

tetsurō comes home to the smell of your cooking, his second favorite scent right after you. just seeing you makes him crazy. he'd been thinking about putting a baby in you all day. his hands itching to get started.

you haven't seen him yet, but tetsurō doesn't waste anymore time. he simply eyes you intently, taking time to admire you and all the soft curves of your backside. your perfect ass. you feel the warmth of him before seeing him and that's enough to startle you.

a small gasp leaves your mouth as you look up at him surprised before a honeyed smile appears on your face. a smile that's only reserved for him. "hi! you're home earlier than usual."

he returns your greeting with a grin. "hi beautiful, how was your day?" he tugs you into his grasp. lean arms encasing you in his hold as he rests his chin on top of your head and massages your hips.

hips he knows that will bare his children.

"it was good tetsu, are you hungry? i'm finishing up dinner now, and we can talk about your day." you respond, focus retuned to the stove in front of you.

he has to admit, the food smells delicious, but he's hungry for something else this evening. and unfortunately he'll have to endure an earful from you later about letting the food get cold, but he doesn't mean any harm. he just has priorities.

he hums, turning you fully towards him. his eyes lower and become stuck on your stomach. brain stuck on the thought of you being round with his child. you would look so cute pregnant. your breast would be filled with milk, too. maybe you'll let him taste—

"'ro?" you voice snaps him from his thoughts. you try to make eye contact with him and he only smiles, not registering a single thing you just said. his large hands take your face in his hold and you feel his calloused fingers run over your cheeks before he kisses your nose and then all over your face.

"tetsurō, what's gotten into you?" you giggle. you didn't mind his affection, don't get it wrong, but there was something oddly...intense about the way he's acting that you know something is up.

the ravenette seems to contemplate his thoughts, carefully reeling over the words in his mind. "i just thought that...maybe we should start...tryin', that's all." he mumbles, mouth pressing kisses all over your skin. you shiver at his touch, at the way his scent and body crowd in on your space.

ah, there it is.

your cheeks heat up, and you know exactly what he means. his words always slur slightly when he's turned on, almost like he's delirious or hooked on lust.

that paired with his cock poking your backside through his slacks.

tetsurō only continues. "today my co-worker brought in the cutest little baby i'd ever seen. looked just like 'em, too. i didn't really understand how children could make someone so happy...but i'm startin' to." he explains, tugging off your pants and underwear in one fell swoop, the cold air hitting your folds makes you jump.

you swallow nervously, "tetsu—"

"made me realize how cute our kids could—will be. they'd be the cutest in the world, i'm sure. wonder if they'd have my eyes and your smile. and hopefully they'll inherit your hair or else we'll be in trouble." he laughs before he undoes his tie, then his shirt, and tosses the garments somewhere on the floor. his belt is undone next and he's quick to unfasten his pants.

you eyes widen, and your heart fastens at the mental image of a tiny child in your arms, the spitting image of you and kuroo.

your husband pauses again, his brows knitted in thought. "do you think...that i can be a good father? for our kids?" he leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes for a moment as he must be pondering the very question.

“of course.” you nod slowly. "i don't think so, i know so. you'll be great with our kids, tetsu." you answer, running your fingers along his jaw.

"yeah?" he breathes, pulling down his pants along with his boxers. "do you still want some?" he moves your body so that you're sitting safely on the counter away from everything else.

"w-with you? yes..." you answer, voice getting caught in your throat as he prods his fat tip at your entrance. you're already soaked enough that you know he can just...slide right in.

kuroo's breathing becomes extremely labored and his gaze darkens at your words. his single strand of restraint is being pulled taut. "then can we? can we start trying, sweets?" his hands are groping at your chest and hips, and he riles himself up the longer he touches you without relief.

you barely say 'yes' before he pushes himself into you, his jaw going slack as he is enveloped by you, cunt warm and inviting and gummy walls pleasurable beyond means.

his eyes glass over and he's completely enamored by the fact that he can be this close to you. that you trust him to hold you like he is now.

you look up at him with near helplessness as his grip on your legs doesn't loosen up. the stretch of him never is something you think you can get used to, as you feel yourself struggle to adjust to his size. the heavy and thick fullness of his cock is intense. you can feel how it throbs with need.

"do you think—" he moans as your cunt drags over his cock, sucking him in more, "that they're going to be interested in volleyball?" he lets his tip kiss your cervix and you keen, causing a groan to escape his mouth. "you think they're gonna be a middle blocker like me?"

"are you really asking me that right now?" you sigh, fingers frantically gripping the counter beneath you. you move your hips against him and hope that will shut him up.

spoiler, it doesn't. "why not—fuck, just like that baby—it's a genuine question." he buries his face in the side of your neck, and the smell of your lavender soap invades his senses before his teeth choose to bite and scrape at your skin.

"you're such a volleyball nerd, tetsu." you laugh but soon moan as both of your hips move synchronously. "when are you not thinking about it?"

he huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your temple as he presses you further into the kitchen counter. his lips linger against your skin before you felt them curve into a smile. "when i'm busy thinking 'bout your cute self, which is definitely more than volleyball."

you tried to formulate a response but only a refined moan escapes your lips again as kuroo pounds you. the sound of skin on skin filters out any remaining thoughts you had.

"you don't understand how crazy i've been goin' today." he grunts, nearly delirious in the way you cream on him so well. he can already feel himself twitch with the need to cum but as much as he wants to, he wants this moment to last a bit longer. he can't cum before you.

one of his hands lace with your own as he regards you. "been thinking about all the different ways to get you pregnant. of all the cute little maternity outfits you'll wear. of me taking care of you when you get tired and your feet ache. you're going to look so pretty carrying our baby, sweetheart."

he's rambling and you're not even sure if he's talking to you or if he's talking directly to your womb. but his words alone are enough to bring you to your first orgasm, pussy clamping down hard on his cock.

"jesus christ," he groans, struggling to keep composure, "it's like your cunt is trying to suck the life out of me."

you only whimper, legs quivering in a way you didn't know they could as you slip them tighter around his waist. with the way kuroo is bullying your insides he just might be successful at his agenda of getting you pregnant tonight.

he moves your legs over his shoulders, laying you down so your back is pressed against the cold surface of the marble counter. the new angle he decides to rut in you at causes you to cry out in surprise.

"so perfect, so pretty like this split on my cock. gonna be even prettier filled with my cum." his head bows so that he can kiss you and you eagerly meet his lips, the taste of him comforting, addicting, and familiar all at once.

he brings one hand down to your clit, moving his fingers methodically over your bundle of nerves as he coos and encourages you to cum again.

"tetsu, please," you whine, "you feel so good, wanna have your babies." the need and anticipation of getting your husbands cum is starting to make you frustrated yet needy all at the same time. yet the way he's making you feel right now makes you want this moment to last forever.

he must sense what you're feeling and hums, kissing you again sweetly. "oh you're not understandin' me princess," he breathes, hips moving in an animalistic way. "i'm gonna have you knocked up by the end of tonight. that's a promise."

"you promise?" you look up at him with doe eyes, mouth parted as little moans still escape you.

he'd give you the world if you asked. he'd pluck the sun from the sky, too. when he presses his forehead to yours he only professes his love to you like he's saying his vows for the first time. he can feel the tightening of his balls and burning pit in his abdomen as his release creeps up on him.

and when he pinches your bundle of nerves, you cum again for a second time. your eyes roll back in your head and your nails dig deeply into the muscle of his broad shoulders.

tetsurō nearly doubles over when his orgasm follows, and he spills thick, white cords of cum into you. his golden eyes look at you and you swear he cums just a little more from the eye contact you two hold. the hard throbbing and pulsing warmth he provides you makes you clench around him again, a feeling of wholeness and elation when you're finally full of him.

you're both incredibly still for a moment and you just hold each other. he sits you up with regard, and you brush back his sweaty fringe. his large hands massage your muscles before he carefully carries you to your shared bedroom.

he sits down and you realize you're both still very connected.

"t-tetsu!" you grab onto him, eyes widening as your taken by surprised at the new angle.

"fuck..." he hisses.

there's something sensitive in the way he moves inside of you, and you're not sure if that has to do with his cum inside of you or your cunt trying to hold in every drop.

kuroo always liked the notion of kissing your ring finger, because it reminded him that the two of you are joined—united. you start to speak but he does before you can even formulate the words.

"i hope you don't think we're done here." he murmurs, and by the twitch of his cock you know he's serious. him and his damned stamina. exhausted, you only shift your trembling hips to prepare for more.

it's looking to be a long night.

and so it's not surprising when several weeks pass by and when said coworker asks him again about kids, he proudly shows them the ultrasound photo hidden away in his wallet.

he only hopes that after baby number 1 you won't mind more.

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scurvyboy · 27 days ago

Note

Not to beat a dead horse or whatever, but you don’t see fiddlestan being healthy at any point? I feel like your version of them would have most of their issues figured out by the time they’re old and stuff. Can you talk about their dynamic a bit more pretty please? (I know you just had an ask about this so sorry to keep bringing it up aha 🤪. I’m obsessed with them, and I love your art/au and want to understand them.)

the basis of why i like the fiddlestan ship is strictly because it doesn't work and is doomed to fail. it's a relationship between two extremely damaged people that are only together for transactional reasons.

the way i see it starting: fiddleford comes back to gravity falls after being kicked out by emma may in hopes that he can patch things up with ford. he finds stan there instead and decides to help him fix the portal despite his crushing anxiety about it because he has nowhere else to go. they're both stuck alone in this situation and urges become apparent. things are awkward for a while before they start banging fuck nasty brokeback mountain style.

fiddleford wants stan because he's delusional and still in love with ford. sure he grows to appreciate differences between them and has a separate chemistry with stan, but he is also completely out of touch with reality and rebounding off of his failed marriage with a man who looks just like the one he cheated on his wife with. working on the portal triggers intense panic attacks, which makes him use the memory gun more, which makes him less and less stable.

stan is working himself to death trying to get ford back and just needs affection. the sexual aspect of their relationship helps him blow off steam, but fiddleford also treats him like a person with a brain and allows him to be emotionally vulnerable for the first time in a long while. having someone finally break down his walls is equal parts frightening and addictive for him; he wants to be loved so badly but knows deep down that fiddleford doesn't actually love him, just the person he represents. he's just second best again.

things start to fall apart when it becomes clear that fixing the portal will be impossible without the other journals. fiddleford basically gives up trying to do the work in earnest and just lives in a domestic fantasy world. stan starts to get more and more impatient about the lack of work getting done and the stress makes him a lot more irritated and volatile. the two enter a vicious cycle of violent fights and honeymoon phases until things boil over: stan confronts fiddleford about the memory gun and kicks him out after he tries to use it on him.

post break up fiddleford, now with his cult and savior complex, murder suicides the portal and their affair from both of their memories. however, stan gets his portal memories back being at the shack and goes on to do what he does in canon.

the whole relationship takes place over the course of a few weeks and is as canon compliant as i could manage. i think it's a really fun concept and i think about it all the time.

to be real, i really dislike the idea that all relationships in media have to be healthy and resolved in order to be compelling. the idea that characters NEED to end the story happy and together is just plain unrealistic. i prefer when stories go outside of the limits of "and then they got together and everything was great after that", especially if being in a relationship isn't necessary to a characters arc.

i do think that them getting together when they're older could work and be very nice. however, i also don't think it's entirely necessary, especially since i did make their relationship rotted gutted awful bad. it is cute though, they can kiss and watch tv and marry for taxt purposes i guess.

#i love you fiddlestan #i love how fucked up you can be #but yeah they're not in love #they're out of love and i'm going to shout it from the rooftops #i couldn't write my tumblr essay #also this took me all day to write #i was at a museum #gravity falls #fiddlestan

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coffee-and-tea-time · 9 months ago

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Lovesick! Patient x Reader.

Can't you stay longer? ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨♡

Yes, you can…ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨♡

Coffee speaking! This is planned as a unwilling to willing but this part is with a full unwilling reader and Tea is healthy again :D so y'all also are less likely to find weird things in the posts lol

Hello! Tea speaking! Since 7UP is already uploaded (we gotta find them names later), it's now turn for my favorite! (Pepsi is better than Coke and you can fight me on that)

tw: yandere behavior, threats, this place should have better security, kidnapping?, deaths of a random person, unwilling reader, written in you/yours

It was only a cold, you just need to go to the hospital to get the certificate and maybe some paracetamol and then leave, easy, isn't it?

As you walk through the hallways of the hospital, you turn left, having a hard time trying to find your way yourself in this big hospital. It seems like your sense of orientation failed this time, as you bump into a man who is dressed in one of those hospital gowns patients wear.

“I’m so sorry sir, I-”

When you were just about to explain your situation, the look of the man before your eyes makes you shut the fuck up really quickly, his blue eyes looking at you seem off but the toothy smile creeping out of his face makes it looks even scarier… oh dear, what have you stepped into?

“I can’t believe they let you in without somebody to guard you… I’m really happy, I can’t believe I found my darling in such an abrupt manner”

You don’t understand half of his words, but one thing is for sure, you have to run as far as you can from this lunatic, but an unexpectedly quick grip on your wrists and a forceful pull towards the room he came from makes it impossible to scape.

The room is the usual hospital room with stretcher for patients to sleep on and medical equipment, you wonder how it can be that there's no doctor or nurse in sight to ask to supervise their patients, but you don’t have a lot of time to meditate about how bad the personal of the hospital is as the man makes you sit on a chair that was close to one of the beds.

“Oh, you are so so precious, for the first time in my life I’m really grateful for my luck; I promise to take care of you, the nurses can bring anything you want from outside the hospital gates… We can always break out of this place”

He says such a terrifying thing in such a loving tone that it makes you doubt your own mind for a moment, he doesn't seem like he's gonna harm you as he kneels to wrap his arms around you in a tender and caring hug as you keep sitting.

You take the chance, since he is too focused on hugging you and murmuring sweetly, to take a peek around the room to see if there's anything you can use, it seems like a room that was used some days ago, your eye catches some broken things on the corner of the room, making you wonder what happened here, but you can't afford be lost in your thoughts here, it may end up badly if you make the wrong move, you don’t have that much of an option though since you don’t know how stable this man is.

So, you scream, you scream bloody murder until you almost go out of oxygen in your lungs.

what a useless attempt to seek for help

“Mm? Did something happen Darling? Why did you suddenly scream so loudly? Did you get hurt on any part of your body? Do you need something? Maybe you want some kisses to ease your mind?”

Is he dumb?

You can’t help but look at him dumbfounded as he holds your face reassuringly. Then, a nurse enters the room and you don't waste the opportunity and start talking to them in a quick peace due to the nervousness of what will come.

“Excuse me, I had an appointed but ended up kind of lost and then here in this weird situation, I probably should go head home already”

The nurse looks kind of confused by the situation, but the pity in their eyes is noticeable as they quickly get closer, eager to help.

“I’m so sorry about this, I’m new here so I don’t know much but for some reason there is a warning about not wandering around here more that necessary, you must have been in a panic to see that no workers come here”

You foolishly calm down by their gentle voice as they attempt to get closer with a sympathetic smile from the black haired man, which gets up to stand in front of you while facing the nurse, preventing them from getting close to you.

“You are not gonna take my darling anywhere, my dear just got a little scared for a moment, we don’t need you here to bother”

“Sir, you need to go to your room, this person is not an inpatient, they have no reason to be here, there’s no need to make a fuss about this, so now you need to move aside so I ca-”

You watch in shock as the man takes out a scalpel, the world seems to go into slow motion for a moment just to turn into high-speed a second later, you end up front seat to see how the man stabs the nurse’s neck and then quickly go for their chest, aiming for the heart, without blinking as his white clothes gets stained with red.

“Please forgive me Dear, it wasn’t my intention to show this kind of gruesome spectacle to your pretty eyes, let me guide you to my room, you can sleep there to forget all about this annoying insect, I can sing you a lullaby if that helps, I'm pleased to help”

He says as he gets closer to you again leaving the corpse behind him, lifting you up into his arms, not even seeming to be struggling with your weight, which took you by surprise as you grip him fearing you'll fall off, you don’t trust this man but you really don’t want to taste his patience or self proclaimed ‘love’ for you.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

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waterdeepwife · 25 days ago

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Gale x Young! Tav

Warnings: AGE GAP Relationship, Reader/Tav is early to mid twenties and Gale is thirty five, proceed with caution or avoid if you don’t like this topic, female! Reader/Tav, You and Gale get teased by the others, Gale gets a little insecure, you comfort each other, NSFW at some point, typos, mentions of Gale reading taboo subject in smut books, jealous and protective Gale, I think this is all?

A/N: I’m well aware age gaps are a taboo subject, I myself am early to mid twenties and prefer older men, this is catered to my tastes/kinks. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with this, simple scroll away or block me. Manage yourselves carefully!

I don’t think Gale would pay much attention to the age difference at first. Sure your face is more youthful than his, but he thinks he’s adorable. He will pinch and squish your cheeks while calling you cute or adorable.

He doesn’t think of himself as old, sure he is older than you, but he isn’t an old man. He’s only thirty five and claims to have some youthful vigor. apart from his knees.

It wouldn’t be until somebody, probably Astarion, said something that makes him question it. Gale always felt unworthy of you, now he worries even more. What if you are buying time until somebody younger, and more handsome comes along? Could you replace him that easy?

He starts acting a bit more antsy and more clingy, having an arm around you or holding your hand. Giving you the saddest puppy eyes he can, praying he’s enough and you won’t leave him. Eventually he will come clean about his anxieties, pouting as he seeks your touch and reassurance that you love him.

When you reassure him, Gale grows more confident in your relationship. Anyone who dares make a comment about your relationship is met with a passive aggressive remark about how you two are in love, and they need to mind their business. He happily shows you off on his arm, chest puffed out and everything.

He will also reassure you, if you ever get worried. That he is completely in love with you, he wants a future together and you are his whole world.

Of course neither of you can escape the light hearted teasing of your friends, especially Astarion and Shadowheart. But they don’t mean anything cruel by it, they just want to ruffle your feathers a bit.

When Gale first confess his feelings for you, he nervously info dumped the pros of having an older lover like him. He is financially stable, he can take of you and support you better, he has a tower you can live in with him, etc. He yaps a lot.

If you ever tease him and call him an old man, he will smirk and tease you back. Say something like “Old!? Perish the thought. Don’t make me put you over my knee, young lady.”

I’ve always seen Gale as a provider, he wants to take care of you and keep you safe. So with you being younger and bound to make stupid decisions, he tries so hard to convince you not to that stupid thing that will get you hurt. He is trying to be controlling and he tries to make sure that he doesn’t come off that way. He’s just a bit over protective.

Your wizard is also more jealous than he usually is. Sending glares at any young man that gets to close to you. If any man dares put a hand on you, Gale may cast a fireball at them. You are his lover and he makes sure everybody knows it.

Obviously they were be arguments and Gale hates them, but even healthy relationships have them. He won’t belittle you for being younger and more inexperienced than him, but would appreciate if you’d listen to him a bit more.

Overall a younger lover wouldn’t be much different, he is still a sweet and dotting man. He is madly in love with you and wants a happy ending for you both.

NSFW STARTS HERE

Gale has read taboo romance books before, ones that explored age gaps, power dynamics, and class differences. So that probably plays a role to accept any differences between himself and any lover. We know this man is freaky.

He uses his experience to his advantage in the bedroom, he has you a moaning mess in seconds, which inflates his ego even more. He teases you so much, asking if you are still with him, or if you need a break, etc.

When you both had sex for the first time, he was very careful and slow. He doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed, even is willing to let you top him so got feel more in control. Your safety and comfort is his priority.

Gale can be gentle and passionate, or rough and fast, all depending on what you want him to do.

I can see him using “young lady” and “pretty little thing” more often if you are younger than him, mostly to try and fluster you.

If you want to explore where he acknowledges the age gap more, he is happy to try somethings out. Bur he won’t go too heavy into it, mostly saying things like; “Does my naughty girl like being dominated by an older man?”, “A younger man couldn’t please you like I can.”. Or various versions of these.

#READ WARNINGS #bg3 gale #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 gale x tav #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale dekarios #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #gale x tav #bg3 gale x you #bg3 gale imagine

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fatuismooches · 3 months ago

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I have a terrible idea.

So we know how Dottore is kinda forgetful right? Like this man straight up forgot that he killed Krupp not even an hour later.

What if... 👉👈 his lover died and he sometimes forgot that happened?

So Dottore is just chilling, and remembers that he should be making his dear's next round of medications.

He goes through the motions, only to pause midway. Right... his lover is dead.

He throws out the half finished medications.

IF THIS IS TOO EVIL IM SORRY 😭 I JUST THOUGHT OF IT AND IVE BEEN DYING SINCE

It's not a secret that Dottore tends to throw himself into his work, especially when he's particularly excited about getting results. Now, it's still not unusual for the Harbinger to busy himself in his lab... only this time, it's to distract himself from his reality outside of work. He barely even talks to his segments anymore, leaving them to fulfill their respective duties, so he works from project to project. Working, working... although there are occasions when he pauses to wonder what he's doing.

How long has he been working? Ages by now probably, it seems like he lost track of time, as he always did. So much work... no breaks... speaking of breaks, he'd have thought you'd come to pester him to take one by now. That was odd. Quite peculiar, to be honest. Maybe you were caught up in your own interests? He'd have to indulge you in them soon. Speaking of strangeness, his foggy, sleep and food deprived mind realizes he's neglected to start concocting your new medicine! He clicks his tongue at his carelessness, this was of utmost importance! He despised seeing any day when your health was worse off - it was his duty to keep you stable.

Dottore gets to work gathering the necessary items for your meds, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he will see you soon. But then his face turns to a scowl as he realizes important ingredients hadn't been gathered. Why didn't he send an order out for them? That was wholly idiotic - he'd never forget something as important as that... there must have been a good reason... and so he rattles his overfilled brain to remember and then-

It's times like this when Dottore remembers it was his duty to you as Zandik to keep you happy and healthy, and he failed.

The segments ignore the crash from his quarters once again.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #anon what if i told u ive actually have a similar idea as the outline for one of the parts in my dottore series.......#“Sometimes he forgets that he doesn't need to justify his unhealthy habits anymore.”#RUNNING AWAY!!!

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tevanbegins · 4 months ago

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The only people thinking that Bucktommy's storyline is ruining the show are the B*ddie fanatics and the homophobic fans who are disappointed that Buck came out as queer. However, the rest of the viewers don't think that way at all. Even if you put aside the BT fandom, the general audiences still enjoy the show. The improved viewership ratings reflect that.

BoBs don't want Buck to end up with the first ever man he has dated (this only bc said man isn't Eddie); they believe he needs to 'explore' his bisexuality more. The GA, on the other hand, is happy to see that Buck is finally settling into a stable, healthy relationship with a caring partner who respects him and reciprocates his feelings equally. Apart from many queer fans who are celebrating this crucial LGBTQ+ representation, most of the GA probably doesn't even care that Buck is with a man and the queerness of it all. They just like seeing a beloved character finally finding true love, after seasons of stumbling through a series of failed relationships.

Buck and Tommy's love story not only sustained the existing viewership, but boosted it further by drawing in plenty more new viewers to the show. This is apparent through the impressive ratings, and the fact that the show's renewal for season 8 was confirmed not long after 'Buck, Bothered and Bewildered' aired.

Another thing that BoBs don't realise is that the GA also comprises casual watchers and people who might not care about Buck or Eddie at all. The show has an Oscar & Emmy-winning actress among its main cast - Angela Bassett. It also has another beloved veteran actor like Peter Krause. There are people who are watching this show for them. There are people who may be far more invested in Bobby-Athena, Maddie-Chimney, or the Hen-Karen storylines than whatever the hell's going on with Buck or Eddie. Or there may be audiences who appreciate the platonic friendship between Buck-Eddie the same way they like Hen-Chimney or Hen-Athena with zero expectation of it turning romantic.

The only reason why it seems that B*ddie is the most popular thing about 9-1-1 is that their fandom is a loud and hyperactive majority across social media. Other fandom stans and GA/casual viewers may not be as dominant on socials, but they exist in a lot higher numbers than BoBs can ever imagine. BoBs overestimate their clout.

Bucktommies obviously love Tommy Kinard with their whole hearts, adore how good he is with Buck, and so would love for them to be endgame. But BoBs don't realise that even the audiences that are not hugely invested in Tevan as us BTs, are not losing sleep over the fact that Buck is with Tommy and not Eddie. They watch the show for other characters and storylines and all the drama and action. Buck's love life doesn't hamper their enjoyment of the show; they may be neutral to it. Even if not all of them maybe loving Tommy, doesn't mean they hate him either.

Again, the reason why Buck or Eddie's past relationships with their female LIs weren't popular even among the GA the way Madney, Henren, or Bathena are, is not because they wanted Buck and Eddie to end up together. I believe it's because those romantic storylines were half-baked or poorly-written, not making the casual viewer care enough. If Buck ever had a female LI with as much potential as Tommy, or if Eddie could treat a partner decently, those hypothetical ships could become popular too. People enjoy Bucktommy because of how beautiful their love story is overall, not simply because it's a 'queer' love story. Their storyline has the potential to be long-term, and Tommy being well-integrated with the rest of the characters solidifies the possibility of him and Buck going a long way.

What excuse would the BoBs who want Buck to experiment have had if Buck hadn't come out last season and Tommy were a woman? What if that storyline would still show a positive romantic development for Buck where the new female LI put in an equal amount of effort into the relationship, like Tommy has? Yes, a lot of the initial hype around Bucktommy was because it's a queer love story, but even if you replaced Tommy with a female character and made her care about Buck the same way that Tommy does, or have Buck be as smitten with her as he is with Tommy, many audiences would still dig that.

The same-sex aspect of it is just icing on the cake; the cake would still have been delicious if baked well (but the icing is significant for queer fans who crave good representation on TV.) But integrating Buck's bisexuality arc into a thriving relationship with a pre-established character is a welcome development for queer fans and GA alike. The viewership stats prove that Bucktommy is definitely not damaging the show, but contributing to making it more successful if anything.

So the BoBs need to know that all their constant whining, cyberbullying and Tommy/LFJR slander is not going to scare ABC or the showrunner & writing staff into giving them what they want. B*ddie fanatics are too tiny a portion of this gigantic equation (that exists far beyond the confines of social media), and losing them is not going to affect the network or the people making the show.

Even in the unfortunate scenario that Bucktommy doesn't last, most of the GA/casual viewers will still not stop watching the show. We BTs will be heartbroken and cry for a few weeks and then move on, because the show's writers can do what they want and owe us nothing. But we're not going to spend years bullying and threatening them for not making our ship endgame. That's the power of GA and the show will continue for as long as it has the ratings and network support to back it up, regardless of who Buck ends up with.

And for now, the GA is enjoying Buck with Tommy, so luckily things aren't looking too shabby for the BT fandom and the storyline should stay its course unless the writers decide otherwise, which they don't really have a reason to given the largely positive response reflected through the ratings. Even though we can't predict what happens in the future, we'll cherish every small or big Bucktommy win that comes our way until then! BoBs can keep screaming into the void as usual, but things wouldn't change because they think they can make it happen. That's all.

___

#911 discourse #bucktommy #tevan #kinley #tommy kinard #evan ‘buck’ buckley #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #bisexual evan buckley #bi buck #oliver stark #lou ferrigno jr #tim minear #911 abc #buck x tommy #tommy x buck #tommybuck #evan x tommy #118 firefam

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 2 months ago

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By and large, the response to DJenks' little Christmas story over on bluesky has been a lot of fun. But it's also reminded how some portions of this fandom will villify Ed for every. tiny. thing.

Ed and Stede, in this story, are running a successful inn. They are happy and in love and are in a stable relationship of two years. They are currently booked solid for a Christmas wedding party, and Stede is feeling stressed and swamped by attending to bookings while Ed is doing front-end work like setting tables beautifully and entertaining guests. We leave off with them starting to have what is very obviously a small domestic squabble about division of labor.

I cannot stress enough that this is a normal argument that literally every couple has from time to time. I watched my (happily married for 30+ years) parents have a similar one just yesterday as we rushed around getting things ready for Hanukkah. This is beyond normal, especially in high-stress situations like Stede's dealing with in the story. Stede is allowed to ask for help and be annoyed if Ed doesn't respond the way he'd needed him to, but Ed is still doing important and necessary work by making sure their inn is beautiful and entertaining guests. These are still necessary chores and it makes sense that Ed would bristle when asked to step away from them, especially if he's already under the assumption that they've "talked about this" and are clear on their duties.

Again. This is SO extremely normal and the kind of spat that healthy couples will have sometimes.

But ever since this dropped a very loud minority of the fandom have been using this as evidence that Ed and Stede's relationship will fall apart, that Ed isn't pulling his weight, that Ed's just a leech who needs to get over himself, that Stede deserves better - even that it's so sad that Stede is being forced to "take Izzy's role as Ed's nanny," as if Ed is just some large stupid toddler and the solution here is Stede suddenly turning into Izzy and berating and yelling at him until Ed feels one inch tall again and is easy to control.

And that's just...exhausting. The thread is very clear that their inn is extremely successful, that Ed and Stede are very happy and deeply in love. Why automatically assume Ed's work has no value or that he's just dicking around (as if presentation and entertainment aren't also very important to the inn's success)? Why automatically look at this tiny domestic spat and assume it means that Ed needs to be hurt and bullied to make him behave? Just...man. I wish the people who take every excuse to shout about how much they hate this show and the main characters would just leave the fandom already if they hate one of the main characters so much.

#ofmd #fandom discourse #fandom racism #my blocklist has grown by three sizes <3

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martian-astro10 · 8 months ago

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Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem

Just found out that Penelope Cruz is married to Javier Bardem and the WAY this man speaks about his wife is just... Amazing. I couldn't find much information about their marriage but from what I've seen on the internet, they haven't cheated on each other, no rumors as well, have been very respectful towards each other, overall, a healthy and mature marriage.

I looked at their d9, and again IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE. Let me do a general breakdown -

Venus represents wife in a man's d9, Jupiter represents the husband in a woman's d9

In javier's d9, Venus is in pisces. In penelope's d9 Jupiter is in pisces, which explains the private nature of their marriage. They had a small and private wedding in 2010. There's also not much known about their married life.

Both of them have mercury in 1st in their d9 which highlights just how important communication is to both of them. Mercury needs to be well placed for a marriage to be stable, you can have many good placements but if mercury is afflicted then the chances of either divorce or an unhappy married life is high.

Penelope is definitely the more dominant one in the relationship with her sun being in the 4th in d9, and with her Jupiter in pisces it shows that Javier is completely okay with that dynamic and is the calm one In the relationship.

Javier also has a Mars darakaraka which again shows that his partner will have those Martian qualities, and Penelope has a mercury darakaraka. I don't know much about Javier but I'll assume that he's the witty one and likes to make jokes and make his wife happy.

Their 7th lord and dk are also well placed in d9. Javier's 7th lord is in 10th in his d9 and penelope's 7th lord is in 2nd in her d9, both money and career related houses. They met on a movie set, and they have also worked together in some movies as well. So there's a focus on working and earing money together.

As you can see from the above analysis, there's a balance of energies, there's work but there are also emotions, one is dominant other is submissive, that's why it's very important to find someone who balances your energy. This whole thing would be very different if Jupiter/Venus was in capricorn or taurus with those placements and if Javier was also a sun/Mars AK, but it's not. They complement each other.

#I'll never stop believing in the accuracy of d9 #I can do this for other celebrity couples as well but their marriages look so toxic and so fake and you can see it in their d9 charts #And i hate analysing that stuff #But they look good and happy and in love #And i hope they really are and I'm not disappointed in the future #astrology #astroblr #navamsa chart #astrology observations

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its-avalon-08 · 9 months ago

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Hey lovely, can i make a request for Daniel Ricciardo fic based on But daddy i love him by Taylor? You can have free reign on it, but just that line "me and my wild boy and all of his wild joy" is so Daniel and has been stuck in my head for ages. Something fluffy and funny, so whatever you want (maybe even a pregnancy reveal 👀👀) if you see fit i just love that song and it's so big ric coded.

Love your work!!! Thank you so much 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

but daddy i love him (dr3)

(please bear with me this one is extra long, ily all)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

the start of the most beautiful things in y/n's life were often masked by difficulties and plagued with the anxieties of life. but when danny was around, things just fell into place. time seemed to stop and the fast paced world began to still.

clutching their pearls, sighing "what a mess"

the air in your childhood home crackled with a tension thicker than the gravy simmering on the stove. you sat across from danny, his smile a little too wide, your dad's gaze narrowed like a hawk eyeing a squirrel.

"so, danny," your dad began, his voice gruff, "you're a… racing driver, is that right?"

"yes sir," danny chimed, a touch too enthusiastically. "formula one, actually! just signed with mclaren for next season."

your dad grunted, poking his mashed potatoes with a fork. "formula one, huh? sounds… dangerous."

"it can be," danny admitted, "but safety's paramount these days, you know?" he flashed a winning grin. "plus, the adrenaline rush? unbelievable."

your dad snorted. "adrenaline rush. sounds like you live life on the edge, son."

you shot your dad a warning glare. "dad, be nice."

he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "honey, I just want to make sure he's responsible. you deserve someone stable, someone who won't make you worry constantly."

"dad!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning. "he's not a reckless teenager, he's a professional athlete! and he takes care of himself."

screaming "but daddy i love him!"

danny, bless his heart, interjected, "exactly! I train like a champion, eat healthy, the whole nine yards. your daughter's in good hands, sir."

the tension remained, a thick fog in the air. dinner progressed in tense silence, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery. you stole glances at danny, his usual sunny disposition dampened. it broke your heart.

suddenly, your dad cleared his throat. "so, danny," he began, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "you said you race for mclaren? ever met lewis hamilton?"

you watched in surprise as danny's face lit up. "met him? I race alongside him! absolute legend, that man. we have some epic battles on the track."

for the next hour, the conversation flowed. your dad, a former racing enthusiast himself, peppered danny with questions about the sport, its history, the intricacies of car setup. danny, more than happy to oblige, regaled him with stories, technical details, even pulling out his phone to show pictures of him with lewis.

by the end of the night, your dad was chuckling at a particularly funny anecdote about a rogue pigeon causing a pit stop delay. he clapped danny on the back with a newfound warmth. "alright, alright, danny. you alright in my book. just take care of my daughter, you hear?"

danny, his grin back in full force, squeezed your hand. "wouldn't dream of it, sir. consider yourself one of my biggest fans from now on."

as you walked danny to his car later, a comfortable silence settled between you. "thanks for being patient with him," you whispered, leaning into his side.

i know he's crazy but he's the one i want

he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "your dad just wants the best for you, that's all. and seeing you happy… that's all I want too." he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. "besides, I think I scored some serious brownie points tonight, wouldn't you say?"

you laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night. "maybe just enough to convince him that a formula one driver can be perfectly responsible... especially when he makes my daughter this happy."

time skip

the sun beat down on the golden sands of miami beach, the gentle waves lapping at the shore lulling you into a state of pure bliss. sprawled out on your beach towel, sunglasses perched on your nose, you were lost in a trashy romance novel, the sound of danny's playful laughter occasionally breaking through your concentration.

suddenly, a shadow fell over you. you peeked over your sunglasses to see danny, a mischievous glint in his eyes, standing over you. before you could even register what was happening, he swooped down, scooping you up in his arms like a prize.

now i'm dancing in my dress in the sun and

"hey!" you shrieked, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. the book tumbled into the sand, forgotten.

with a triumphant yell, danny sprinted towards the ocean. the cool water rushed at you as he plunged in, carrying you with him. you shrieked again, this time with delight, water splashing everywhere.

when danny finally set you down, the waves lapping at your waists, you couldn't help but grin at him. his hair was plastered to his forehead, and a carefree smile stretched across his face.

i'm his lady, and oh my god

"you're a menace, ricciardo!" you exclaimed, shaking your head playfully.

he just laughed, the sound echoing across the beach. then, in a flash, he was pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. you giggled as he dipped you backwards, the cool water washing over you both.

when he pulled you back up, his eyes held a playful fire. before you could say anything, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was warm, sweet, and tasted faintly of salt. you melted into him, the world around you fading away.

me and my wild boy and all of this wild joy

the kiss ended with a sigh, foreheads resting against each other. you looked into his eyes, their blue depths sparkling with love and adoration.

"you're crazy," you whispered, a smile blooming on your face.

"only for you," he replied, his voice husky. he brushed a stray strand of hair from your cheek, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your jaw.

you sighed contentedly, leaning into his touch. in that moment, with the sun warming your skin, the sound of the waves crashing in your ears, and danny by your side, everything felt perfect. you wouldn't trade this feeling for the world.

time skip

you fidgeted with the hotel room balcony railing, the bustling city of monaco blurring below. danny, oblivious, was humming along to the pre-race hype blaring from the tv. today was his big day, the monaco grand prix, and the nervous energy crackling in the air was almost tangible. you, however, were grappling with a different kind of jitters.

taking a deep breath, you approached him, the small velvet box clutched tightly in your hand. "danny," you began, voice barely above a whisper. he glanced up, a dazzling smile splitting his face.

"hey there, sunshine," he said, reaching out to pull you into a quick hug. "ready for the race?"

"actually," you mumbled, biting your lip, "there's something I need to tell you before you go."

he frowned playfully, his brow crinkling in mock seriousness. "is it that you secretly placed a giant shoey on toto wolff's yacht?"

you laughed, a little relieved at the lighter mood. "no, nothing like that. it's… well, it's important."

he set the tv remote down, his smile softening. "alright, come here," he patted the space next to him on the plush couch. you sat down, fiddling with the box in your lap. the words seemed to get stuck in your throat, a tangled mess of nerves.

"danny," you tried again, voice shaking slightly, "we might need to… postpone those post-race victory celebrations."

now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned

he chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "losing faith in your honey badger already? don't worry, I've got this."

frustration bubbled up. "no, it's not that! it's… it's…" you squeezed the box so hard your knuckles turned white. "i'm pregnant, danny!"

the playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of utter confusion. "pre… what now?" he asked, brow furrowed.

panic clawed at you. was this the wrong approach? "pregnant! as in, a baby, danny! we're having a baby!" you blurted out, your voice bordering on a squeak.

i'm having his baby

the confusion on his face morphed into a look of dawning realization. his eyes widened, then welled up with tears. a choked sob escaped his lips. he whipped his head towards the balcony door and threw it open, a joyous yell erupting from his throat.

"we're having a baby!" he bellowed across the bustling streets of monte carlo, his voice thick with emotion.

i know he's crazy but he's the one i want

he turned back to you, a goofy grin splitting his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. before you could even react, he swept you into a tight embrace, the box tumbling onto the floor with a soft thud. he squeezed you like a lifeline, muttering incoherent words of joy into your hair.

his emotions were infectious. you clung to him, tears welling up in your own eyes. he pulled back, his hands cupping your face. he peppered your cheeks, forehead, your nose, with kisses, every kiss filled with a love so profound it took your breath away.

"this is… this is incredible, y/n," he finally managed to say, his voice hoarse. he pulled you close again, resting his forehead against yours. "we're having a baby. we're going to be parents."

he was chaos, he was revelry

the celebratory noises from outside were a distant hum, drowned out by the frantic thumping of your heart and the overwhelming sense of happiness washing over you. in that moment, in danny's arms, with the promise of a new life growing inside you, the world seemed to shimmer with possibility. you couldn't wait to start this incredible adventure together.

but oh my god you should see your faces

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apdreadful · 9 months ago

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Well God Forbid Buck have a healthy long term relationship with a stable, understanding, well adjusted man who clearly is into him, has ties to the 118 without any potential messiness that would occur with still being AT the 118 (meaning he understands the job)..A man who clearly makes him very happy.

When he could instead mess around with his best friend who works with him and has given no actual indication he’s into dick..let alone Buck’s dick.

A best friend who has clearly shown that he would definitely struggle with self acceptance if he were to question his own sexuality.

#best friends isn’t good enough!!! ::whinnnnnge::#buddie is a scary af fandom #buddie isn’t my end game #can you say toxic fandom #because that is what it is #911 abc #911 fandom #911 discourse #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #evan x tommy #bucktommy #911 spoilers #kinley

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maimingaffairs · 1 year ago

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Grieving for the Living (Aleksander Morozova x fem! reader) Part 2

The entirety of a capricious and treacherous marriage between the Darkling and the Lantsov princess.

read part one here!

hi all i love u, also merry early christmas to those who celebrate and happy weekend to those who don't! i've had people ask to be tagged in future parts so feel free to comment if u wanna be added to the silly little taglist for this silly little story.

word count: 11.6

warnings: man idk, everything is pretty canon. examples of a not very healthy relationship.

taglist: @il0vebeingdelulu @mellowarcadefun

You sat on a stool in the stables while your husband was occupied, putting a saddle on his horse. You had your legs crossed and you bounced your knee to pass the time, sighing occasionally. You wore tall, knee high riding boots and a pair of tight black pants. You had a peacoat over your white blouse and a cloak on over your shoulders, at the request of your husband. It had recently become much colder in temperature as the seasons shifted from autumn to winter, and your husband was constantly fussing about you getting sick.

“You know, I grew up riding horses. I can ride my own. I have my own.” You remarked, glancing up at your husband as he secured half of the saddle onto his horse’s back.

He eyed you from where he stood and he shook his head, “I believe you, but it’s cold and I’d prefer having you close enough to share body heat.” He explained, going back to tightening straps.

“In what world will I be cold, dear? You’ve got me in a hundred layers.” You stated, keeping your eyes on him.

Almost an entire month had passed since you had tried to walk out on him, and in that month, he had done an entire turn around. Days where you expected him to be off with Alina or off tending to things pertaining to his army, he had been spending with you. Conversations that you’d grown accustomed to being cold were now warm and inviting, and mealtime wasn’t stiff and just for the sake of appearances anymore.

As to be expected, though, you two were starting at the bottom. Friends before lovers, you reminded yourself when you found yourself daydreaming about the one time he had kissed you.

Your husband looked down upon you and snickered once before he tightened the last strap on the horse’s saddle, “Well, at least you’ll be warm.” He said with a smile, shaking his head just once.

You simply rolled your eyes and stood up off of the stool, “I’m serious, I’m an excellent rider.” You pressed, walking to his side.

“While I don’t doubt you for a second, can you please just humor me and ride on my horse with me?” He asked, looking down at you with a small, amused smile.

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help but smile back at him. You grabbed onto the saddle and he hoisted you up onto the horse before he gracefully climbed on behind you, grabbing the reins. He guided the horse forward and out into the path out behind the palaces. You’d never admit it, but you were glad for the extra layer he insisted you wear, because the cold bit your cheeks and made you grab the sides of your cloak and pull them around your body like a blanket. You leaned back a bit against your husband’s solid chest and you let out a little sigh, watching the trees pass the two of you by.

“I want to discuss something with you.” Your husband said matter of factly.

He let go of the reins with one hand and wrapped his arm delicately around your waist, pulling you back just slightly.

“Alright, go on, then.” You coaxed, feeling tiny butterflies in your stomach when he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“The Winter Fete is in a few weeks,” he began, sounding almost nervous to continue, “your parents have requested that the Sun Summoner and I give a… demonstration, of sorts. A performance of her abilities.” He finished, arm tightening around your waist just slightly.

You had almost forgotten Alina had been there over the past month. It was seldom that your husband saw her anymore, pushing her training off onto other Grisha or the strange old woman, Baghra, whom you had only met once, the night after your wedding.

“What’s that got to do with me?” You asked, confusedly, reaching out with one hand to touch some low hanging branches as you passed them.

“I’m just going to have to spend a bit of time getting her ready.” He stated, and you pulled your arm back into your cloak, listening to him.

“Can I accompany you?” You asked, turning your head to look up at him. His eyes shifted down towards you and he gave you a soft smile.

“If that so pleases you, then I suppose it won’t be an issue.”

You smiled at him and then turned back around, “I’d like that.” You hummed, reaching down to gently place your hand on top of his as he held your waist with one arm.

His hand was cold as always and you moved your other hand over so that you could clasp his hand in both of yours to warm it up.

“Your hands are always so cold.” You remarked, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, “Cold hands, warm heart?” You asked, giggling.

He let out a little chuckle behind you and he leaned down so that his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “Perhaps cold heart, even colder hands.”

“You don’t have a cold heart.” You quipped, bringing his hand up to your neck, warming it against your skin.

“Would you say I have an overly warm one?” He asked, keeping his lips near your ear.

“I think you’re just a little bit choosy about who gets to see your warmth.” You countered and then shrugged once, leaning your head back against his chest.

The sun was starting to set, leaving the sky a brilliant orange and pink and you stared off at the bright colors, keeping his hand against your warm neck. You stayed silent for a while as he stopped the horse near a cliffside and you both looked over it.

“Do you truly believe Alina is going to rid us of The Fold?” You asked softly, imagining a world where you could travel as you pleased with no imminent danger. You’d always wanted to travel past Ravka. Maybe to Ketterdam, or perhaps even beyond all that, and looking over this cliffside gave you a rather strong sense of wanderlust. The colors of the sky made the pine trees below look dull and lifeless and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sunset.

Your husband seemingly hesitated before he answered, taking his time to formulate a response carefully.

“I believe it’s achievable. She is a marvel.” He finally said, wrapping his other arm around you so that you were now encircled in his embrace.

You paused. Your next question hung on your lips and you almost didn’t ask it, but before you could think better of it, it had already come out of your mouth.

“Do you have feelings for Alina?”

The Darkling pulled you closer so that your back was flush against his chest and you could feel the metal embellishments on his kefta through your cloak.

“I wouldn’t say so.” He remarked plainly, allowing you to lay your head back against the front of his shoulder.

You let out a slow breath, and noted that it had now become cold enough that you could see your breath materialize in front of you. You felt an odd sense of relief.

“What about anyone else?” You absentmindedly asked, tracing your finger along the sleeve of his kefta. You suddenly felt very intrusive and frowned, patting his arm once, “You don’t have to answer that, I’m being nosy.”

He hummed and you felt his cheek against the top of your head. You kept your eyes on the sky and felt your eyelids grow heavy. The two of you had taken to going on horse rides later in the evening so that you could see the sunset. You’d mentioned loving the sunset to him once not too long ago, and he’d taken it upon himself to bring you here to a cliff in the forest behind the palaces.

You dragged your pointer finger over the edge of his sleeve and down onto his exposed wrist. You ran your finger along the back of his hand and up onto the cold metal of the ring on his smallest finger. He turned his hand over so that his palm was facing yours and he slid his fingers in between yours. He held your hand delicately in his own as if it may break if he added any sort of pressure. You tore your eyes away from the sky to look at your joined hands and you turned your head and looked up at him. It took him a moment to move his gaze down to yours, but when he did, you felt breathless. The fading sun reflected in his dark eyes and you could swear that just this once, they had a golden hue. You tightened your fingers around his and leaned closer to him, twisting around to rest your chin against the center of his chest while you kept your eyes upon him.

He brought a hand up and smoothed back your hair, a small smile forming on his lips. He leaned down and for a split second, you grew excited, anticipating a kiss. He did kiss you, just not where you had expected it. Instead, he placed a very gentle kiss upon your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut and his lips lingered upon your skin. Your forehead felt warm where his lips touched it and you gave his hand another squeeze. When he finally did pull away, the air felt much colder. He brought the hand that was touching your hair up to your face and he felt your cheeks with the backs of his fingers.

“I think we should head back. You’re getting rather cold, it seems.” He hummed.

You didn’t move, though. You stayed with your chin against his chest and your eyes up on his face. He seemed amused by you now, a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Y/n, I’ll not have you getting sick.” You could tell he was trying to be stern, but the smile on his face made it so hard to take him seriously.

“You’d better warm me up then, quickly, General!” You teased, moving your head down and resting your cheek against his chest instead of your chin. Your back was twisted at an odd angle and you were admittedly very uncomfortable, but you didn’t move.

“I can warm you up better when we’re in a warm environment, now come on.” He stated and gently grabbed your arms. He turned you forward once again and he let go of your hand. He wrapped his arm around your waist once more and grabbed the horse’s reins with the other hand. He started the horse off back towards the palace and you leaned back completely against his chest once again, placing your hand back on top of his as he held you around your waist.

The ride back to the Little Palace was silent, but not uncomfortably so. Your husband brought the two of you back to the stables and he easily jumped off the horse and then held his arms out for you. You slid off of the horse and into his arms and he gently set you on the ground. Once you were standing firmly on the ground, you wrapped both of your arms around one of his and leaned your cheek against the side of his arm. He looked down at you with that same amused smile and he led both of you inside. Once you were inside, you felt instant relief from the cold. You hadn’t even noticed how cold you really were until you’d gotten back inside.

You and your husband made your way through the halls toward your bedroom and were nearly there when you heard someone clear their throat behind you two. Both of you turned around at the same time to see the old woman, Baghra, standing a couple yards behind you. She seemed irate, and took a couple steps towards the two of you. Your husband swept you behind himself in what you could only imagine was a protective manner.

“I’ve been trying to speak to you for days, boy.” She said, her tone steady and cold. If she was angry, her tone wouldn’t have indicated it. In fact, it wouldn’t have indicated anything at all. Her voice was devoid of emotion, something your husband was able to do often.

“And I’ve been avoiding you for days. I have important things to tend to, Baghra.” He answered. She came closer.

Her eyes flickered to you and back to him. She did this a few times before she shook her head, her grey hair shaking with each movement, “Seems you’re not busy now. Have your wife run along so that we may speak.”

You raised an eyebrow and took a step forward, intent on reminding this woman who she was speaking to. Your husband put his arm out to keep you back and he turned his head and looked down at you, shaking his head sternly.

“Go get yourself ready for bed. I’ll be along shortly. I just need to speak to Baghra for a moment.”

You looked up at him questioningly but didn’t protest. You could read the room, and you knew this likely wasn’t a time to argue. You gave a small nod to your husband and he gave you a tense smile in return, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“Good girl, run along. Start a fire if you get too cold.” His voice was warm when he spoke to you this time, and it made you smile.

You turned away from him and you walked briskly toward your room. When you looked back over your shoulder, though, Baghra and your husband were both staring back at you, making your stomach twist uneasily.

Your eyes had just barely fluttered shut when the door to your bedroom opened, closing loudly almost instantly after. Your eyes flew open and you sat up on your elbows to see your husband standing near the doorway. You didn’t need to hear his voice or see his face in the light to know that he was angry. You sat up fully and watched him carefully. He stood there for a moment longer before he took off his kefta and hung it over a chair. He looked at you where you sat, and you could tell even in the dim light that he was looking at you, because his eyes shone in the candlelight. You watched him silently as he bustled around the room to rid himself of his dirty clothes and changed into his nightclothes. Once he had finished, he stood motionlessly with his back to you, hands clasped behind his back. You quietly climbed out of bed and you walked towards your husband. Your feet pattered quietly against the floors and once you reached him, you wrapped both of your arms around him from behind.

He felt tense in your arms and you laid your cheek against his back. You didn’t say anything- you didn’t even know what could have been said. After a few minutes, he laid his hands on your wrists and brushed his thumbs across the backs of your hands.

“Did you know that Baghra is my mother?” He asked after a long while of silence.

“I did not.” You answered, but it made sense. They had similar mannerisms, similar ways of presenting themselves.

Your husband turned around in your arms and looked down at you, resting his hands on your waist.

“You don’t need to go mentioning that to anyone else.” He stated.

A look of surprise flashed across your face and you blinked a few times. He had just confided in you. You felt oddly flattered and you almost felt like doing a happy little dance around the room, but you stayed planted in your spot.

“I won’t.” You promised, leaning closer to him.

He gave an approving hum and he reached up to tuck a lock of your hair back behind your ear.

“You should be in bed right now.” He laid his palm against the side of your face and held it like it was the most delicate thing he’d ever handled in his life.

“Well, I was. In bed, I mean. But then you came in. You’re upset. I just wanted to help.” You explained, leaning into his hand.

The cold metal of his ring bit into your warm cheek and it nearly made you shiver. You closed your eyes and nuzzled your face into his palm, feeling soothed by the way he swiped his thumb back and forth over your cheekbone every so often.

“Such a sweet girl,” he cooed, “I am just fine. Don’t worry about me.” he murmured and leaned down. He swept an arm behind your legs and he lifted you up into his arms. You grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself and he hauled you back over to the bed.

He laid you down on your side and you grabbed his arm, tugging on it, “You’re gonna lay down too, right?” You asked softly, looking up at him expectantly.

“Yes, y/n.”

You felt relieved when he answered and you rolled onto your side to face him as he walked around the bed and laid down next to you. You smiled over at him as he rolled onto his own side and you wiggled closer to him so that there was only less than a foot of space between your faces. His dark eyes scanned over your face before he reached across the distance between you and tugged you against his chest. A relieved sigh passed your lips and you closed your eyes, resting your head comfortably against the center of his chest.

“What did your mother say to you that upset you so much?” You asked in a soft tone. As soon as you asked, though, you felt intrusive. He likely would’ve started ranting about it if it was something he wished to discuss.

But instead of answering you with silence or some other evasive statement, he sighed and began to speak.

“She believes me to be… threateningly power hungry.”

“And are you?” You asked, tracing your fingers along the smooth silk of his shirt.

“I think there’s a fine line that runs between knowing what you want and doing everything you can to take it and being power hungry.” He answered, sliding a hand up into your hair.

“I see. And what is it that you want?” You asked, placing a kiss over his clothed chest.

“Power.”

His answer came as a surprise to you. You didn’t expect him to be so forthcoming with anything, especially this. His fingers ran idly through your hair and you wiggled up a bit to tuck your face into the crook of his neck. You felt tired, much more tired than you had been before, but you didn’t want to stop talking to your husband. You didn’t want his openness to end and never make a reappearance.

“What kind of power?” You asked, trying to ignore the sleepiness that threatened to drag you away.

“All of it. I want it all.” He replied, voice calm, as if he were having the most casual of conversations with you.

“I see.” You hummed.

Neither of you spoke for a while after this. As much as you tried to fight it, you began to drift off to sleep, but it didn’t last long, because your husband spoke again.

“I married you for power, you know.”

Your eyes shot open and you sat up on your elbow, gaping down at the man next to you. You didn’t know how to react. His words had sent needle-sharp pains through your chest. Your mouth opened slightly as if you were ready to speak, but you closed it quickly. He held up his finger as if to ask you to hear him out and you blinked incredulously back at him. You didn’t want to hear him out, but you couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I tried to dislike you. To push you away. I wanted this to be painless. But you made that so hard. You’re brilliant, intelligent, talented… you’re everything. You’re enchanting, y/n Lantsov. Falling for you… that wasn’t part of my plan, but here we are. You’d have to be a fool to not fall for you.” He breathed, reaching up to touch your face with the tips of his fingers. His fingertips grazed your skin and you shivered, eyes falling shut, “The fact of the matter is, I’ve tried with all my might to keep you out. I don’t want you out anymore. I couldn’t care less about power when it comes to you. You’ve enchanted me, Princess. I am under your unbreakable spell. Sometimes I think that you must be a sorceress.”

His words hit you hard, leaving you struggling to breathe. You should have been mad at him for setting out to use you for gain. You should have slapped him and stormed out of the bedroom. He shouldn’t have been touching you so sweetly, and you shouldn’t have been letting him. Every logical thought in your head told you to get out of bed and run. Run to your parents, break the marriage, tell them the truth of what he had just told you. You should have listened to that logical side of your brain. You should have just listened to your brain in general.

But wasn’t this what you wanted?

Confusedly, you brought a hand up to the side of your head and you shook it a few times. You’d all but begged him to love you, and here he was, confessing to you in roundabout words that he did.

Your eyes met his and you wanted to be angry, but his gaze was so soft, so adoring, and it made you waver. He slid his hand around to the back of your head and he pulled your face close to his.

“I will be honest with you, completely honest, going forward. I give you my word on that. You have every right to be angry. But I beg of you; don’t walk away.” And he was indeed begging. You’d never heard this tone leave his mouth before. He never begged. He was to be begged for. He commanded respect wherever he went. You doubted this man had ever begged for anything in his entire life.

He pulled your face closer, so close now that his lips brushed yours as he spoke.

“Let me love you. The way you deserve.”

Hearing his words was blissful. You tried desperately to muster up some- any- anger, but you were failing miserably. Every urge to scream, to run, to leave, was rapidly slipping away, and all you could focus on now was how close his lips were to yours. You swallowed thickly, not opening your mouth, afraid of what might come out. You noticed your hands were trembling and you balled them into fists to keep them from shaking.

Let me love you.

Weren’t you asking him to do this just a month ago? The words echoed in your head on and on, back and forth, and despite your better judgment, you felt one word slip through your lips.

“Okay.”

Then, he kissed you. This kiss was much sweeter than the last, and you were hesitant to kiss back now, but did it really matter? You’d already pushed aside all logic tonight. What would it hurt to kiss your husband back?

So you did.

“Are your eyes closed?” Your husband asked you, giddy with excitement.

You smiled and for extra measure, put your hands over your closed eyes, “Yes, my love. They aren’t open.” You replied, letting him gently steer you into another room.

He finally stopped walking and held you still, his hands gently holding your waist from behind. You leaned back into his grasp and let out a soft, content sigh.

“Alright. You may go ahead and open your eyes.”

You uncovered your eyes and opened them up and your eyes fell upon a brilliant dress sitting upon a dress form in the middle of the room. It was a sleek, black gown with a low neckline and long sleeves. Pearls and little crystals were sewn into the fabric in swirling designs around the neckline and over the sleeves. You slowly turned around and looked up at your husband with wide eyes.

“I know black has never been your choice of color to wear, and if you don’t want to wear it to the fete tonight, you may pick whatever else you’d like, but I had this made for you. I just thought perhaps that we could match.” He murmured, reaching out to grab your chin delicately.

You smiled up at him gratefully and you shook your head, “No, I want to wear it. It’s beautiful.” You said softly, leaning into his touch. You were much more open to wearing black these days anyway, having the newfound desire to wear your husband’s color for everyone to see.

He leaned down and brought your lips to his in a slow, relaxed kiss. You relished the feeling of his warm lips against yours and you moved closer to him, bringing a hand up to rest on the side of his neck. He pulled away and you let out a disappointed whine, trying to chase his lips with your own as he stood back up straight.

He chuckled, “There will be plenty of time for that later, my love. For now, I think we ought to start getting ready for the fete tonight.”

You frowned and dramatically sighed, collapsing forward against his chest. You wound both of your arms up around his neck and you rested your cheek against the center of his chest,

“Thank you.” You whispered, “The dress is beautiful.”

He wrapped his own arms around your waist and drew you in close, his nose burying itself in your hair, “You needn’t thank me, sweet girl. It’ll look beautiful on you.”

“What will you wear?” You asked, tucking your face against his shoulder. Your fingers absentmindedly twisted in the hair at the back of his head and you gave it a very gentle tug.

“Something nice. Similarly colored, too.” He said, sarcastically.

You smiled at his dry remark and you pulled your head back to look up at his beautiful face. His dark eyes looked down into yours and he brought a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek carefully. There was a certain pain in his eyes that you couldn’t ignore and you brought your hand up to rest against the back of his.

“What troubles you, darling?” You asked, your smile faltering just slightly.

He brought his forehead down to yours and he nudged your nose with the tip of his, “Little love, what makes you think something troubles me?” He asked, lips grazing yours.

“You look… anguished. In your eyes.” You answered, your own eyes falling closed. His breath fanned across your face and you parted your lips slightly when his brushed across yours.

“Anguished? How could I be anguished at a time like this? I have my darling wife in my arms.” He whispered, his tone convincing.

“Are you sure?” You asked quietly, “You can tell me.” You pressed, fingers sliding in between his.

“I assure you, there is no anguish inside of me. You’ve made sure of that.” He cooed, pressing multiple feather-light kisses to your lips.

You took his word for it and slowly pulled away from him, smiling just a bit, “Do you get to help me into my dress or is that a task for your Tailor?” You asked, wandering towards the dress in the middle of the room.

“I suppose that if you want the dress on now, we can put it on you.” He answered and followed you.

You turned the dress form around and unlaced the silk gown with delicate fingers before you pulled it off entirely. You held the garment out for your husband to take and he did, his eyes never leaving you. You quickly undressed out of your plain sky blue gown and you kicked it aside, eager to get into the dress that he had made for you. You turned to face your husband now and you stepped closer to him and held your hands out for the dress. Instead, he took a step closer to you and he grabbed your arm. He tugged you close to him and he dipped his head down to place a few kisses to your shoulder. You let out a soft sigh when you felt his lips against your skin and you nearly shivered.

“If you start something like that, I’m afraid I won’t stop you.” You whispered shakily, bringing a hand up into his hair as he trailed his lips down towards your collarbones.

“Don’t stop me, then, Princess.” He mumbled, hand still on your arm. You almost allowed him to convince you, but you frowned and shook your head.

“We don’t have time. You have to get ready, so do I…” you hummed, rather distracted. His kiss made your stomach do flips and as much as you said that you two shouldn’t, you wanted to allow him to do whatever he pleased in that moment.

Much to your secret dismay, The Darkling lifted his head away from your chest and he hummed.

“Such a shame. I suppose I’ll just have to look forward to taking you out of that dress, then.” He commented and finally let go of your arm and handed you the gown.

You carefully took it from his hands and you stepped into the dress. You pulled it up and slid your arms into the soft sleeves and then turned around. Your husband moved your hair over your shoulder as your back faced him and he laced up your dress. You recalled the last time he did this and almost laughed at how different it was now. The first time he’d laced up your dress, you’d not wanted him anywhere near you, and now all you could think about was his hands all over you. The thought of his hands all over your body made you bite your bottom lip and you tilted your head to the side.

He finished doing up your dress and he turned you around slowly, taking in the way the dress settled upon your body. There was a sense of pride in the way that he smiled down at you and you did a little twirl in front of him. The skirt of the dress swished around your ankles and you giggled, turning back around to grin up at your husband.

“Do we like it?” You asked, running your hands over the pearl embellished bodice.

“We do.” His tone was low and his eyes were taking you in as if it was the first time he was seeing you.

You bounded forward and threw your arms around his neck once more, tugging him down towards you. You pressed a handful of excited kisses to his lips and each time he kissed you back, his lips curling into a pleasant smile.

“Thank you.” You breathed, bumping your nose against his.

He pulled away and he took your hand in his, “Don’t thank me, Princess. I should thank you for wearing it, gracing my eyes with your beauty. Besides, I like it when you wear my color. It gives me a sense of pride, it’s such a beautiful sight to see you in it. I don’t just ask anyone to wear it, you know. Only someone who has a special place in my heart.” He replied and then winked down at you, “Come, let’s go get you ready for the fete.” He prompted and tugged you towards the door, his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer.

You couldn’t help but notice the pained look that still hung in his dark eyes.

“My beautiful girl!” Your mother’s voice rang out across the crowded room.

Your parents rose from their seats when you came into view and you gave them a soft smile. You were clinging to your husband’s arm as if someone would take him from your grasp, and justifiably so. This was the largest event of the year, and there were hundreds of people, some of which from other countries. The eyes of almost everyone in the room were on the two of you, and you imagined you must have been a spectacle. It was no surprise to see the Second Army’s General in all black, but for you to be in his color? That must have been new. A little smirk threatened to cover your lips, you felt so powerful at his side.

The two of you took graceful strides up to your parents and you finally pulled away from your husband’s arm. You stood up on your toes and placed a quick, chaste kiss on his lips. He let out a breathy laugh as you pulled away and turned to your parents. You greeted them warmly and gave them both little kisses on their cheeks before you turned to your brother, Vasily. You gave him a curt nod and then took your place back at your husband’s side.

“I never thought I’d see the day where you wore anything that wasn’t so brightly colored.” Your mother commented and sat back in her plush chair, “You look dazzling, dear. Both of you. You could make a burlap sack look good though, darling! I mean, I’d hope you never have to but, still!” Your mother gushed, and you chuckled and glanced up at your husband.

His eyes didn’t meet yours. In fact, his eyes were transfixed on the doorway. You slowly followed his gaze once you realized he wasn’t tearing his attention away from whatever was at the doorway anytime soon, and quickly wished you hadn’t.

Alina Starkov, the Sun Summoner stepped into the room looking as decorated as a war hero. Her hair was done up beautifully and she looked poised and… perfect. None of this would have bothered you though, if it wasn’t for her clothing.

Black.

A black kefta with beautiful golden embroidery.

Your mouth twitched angrily and you watched her as she approached you and your husband, her eyes on his. He watched her with a smile as she strode towards you two and you slipped your arm away from his, turning your head slowly towards him. He slowly shifted his eyes towards your face, and his smile seemed to melt. The pained look returned to his eyes as he looked at you and he opened his mouth as if he were going to speak but you held your hand up.

“Not. A. Word.” You hissed and he seemed as if he was going to argue, but you cleared your throat and turned towards your parents, giving them a warm, performative smile, “May I sit with you, Mother?” You asked, motioning to the empty seat next to her.

Your mother enthusiastically urged you to sit down and you did, your legs crossing stiffly. Your husband looked at you, pleaded for your attention with his eyes and the look within them, but you turned your head to listen to whatever conversation your parents and Vasily were having. You felt sick to your stomach while you only half listened to Vasily speak about the ongoing war and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“I don’t just ask anyone to wear it, you know. Only someone who has a special place in my heart.”

Your husband’s words from earlier rang in your ears and your eyes strayed to him. He stood next to Alina now, talking to her. A smitten smile covered her lips. You couldn’t take it. You shot up from your chair and you heard your mother gasp, startled by the sudden movement.

“I’ll be back, excuse me please.” You murmured.

Your mother grabbed your wrist and looked up at you, “Oh, but if you leave now you’ll miss the show!” Your mother exclaimed, pointing to Alina and your husband.

“Let her go, Mother.” Vasily said in a sympathetic tone. You looked at your brother, shocked, and he gave you a half smile before his gaze wandered to Alina and your husband. He looked back at you and he nodded towards the door, “I’m sure she’ll be back in time for drinks, Mother.” He finished.

You felt a bit taken aback by your brother’s kindness, and furthermore his attention to detail, but you were thankful nonetheless, and you turned quickly on your heel and made your way into the crowd. You moved past your husband and Alina and you pushed through a crowd of people by the door who all gasped once they saw who was shoving them out of the way. Tears welled up in your eyes and you swallowed them back, forcing yourself to stay composed. You heard gasps and cheers and then applause behind you, but you didn’t look back. You kept pushing ahead. Your hands were shaking as you made it out of the crowd and you rushed down the hallway, holding your hand over your aching chest. You came to the grand staircase which was being watched by two royal guards, making sure no partygoers got upstairs. You gave them both a polite nod, and they gave you a respectful bow of the head as you passed by them.

You took the steps two at a time, rushing to get upstairs where no one could see you. Once you’d reached the landing at the top of the stairs, you bolted into a hallway just to your left and you leaned against the wall. You listened silently for anyone, and once you had deduced that no one was around, you slid down the wall, your shaking hand still clasped to your chest. You felt panicked and angry. You felt like your chest was going to collapse in on itself and you lowered your entire body to the floor, curling up into a makeshift ball, your dress not allowing you full range of motion.

You wanted to slam your head against the wall. How could you have been so stupid? Your husband didn’t love you. How could he? You were both pushed into a marriage that you didn’t want, both practically strangers to one another before then, too. Tears began to stream steadily out of your eyes and down onto the cool marble floor beneath your cheek. He’d lied to you. He made you feel important to him, he spent every day since you’d admitted you wanted his love, doting on you and making you feel like you’d finally had it. You thought you’d had it.

Of course he’d want Alina Starkov. Being with you had one selling point; a political advantage. A power grab. But being with Alina? They were both Grisha, you were not. They were each other’s balance. She was the light to his darkness, and you were… nothing. In fifty years, Alina wouldn’t have aged a moment, she’d still be as radiant as she was tonight, but in fifty years for you? You’d be growing old, you wouldn’t be able bodied any longer.

So of course your husband wouldn’t love you. You were a handful of decades of slight inconvenience and then he’d never have to deal with you again.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been lying there in the dark, empty hallway, but you had long since stopped crying. Your head ached horribly, your chest felt empty, and you couldn’t bear to drag yourself up off of the floor and down the corridor to your old bedroom, even though it was mere steps away from where you laid against the wall. You were certain that you looked absolutely pathetic there, curled up in a mess of fabric with tears stained cheeks and bright red eyes.

You felt heartbroken. Did you even have the right to feel that way? Your relationship with The Darkling had been tumultuous and was all over the place, never staying consistently one way for as long as it had been a thing. Could you even call it a relationship? Your head spun and you reached up to dry your eyes, your arms feeling stiff. The air around you seemed to be cold and it caused little goosebumps to break out all over your skin. Distantly, you heard voices calling out for you, but you ignored them and pushed yourself up off of the floor. You refused to allow anyone to see you in such a state. You’d been taught from a young age to always be composed in front of others, it was unbecoming of a princess to be a mess.

You shakily climbed to your feet, feeling another wave of tears building up behind your eyes and you walked tiredly into your old bedroom, slamming the door behind you. Everything inside was clean and crisp, just as you had left it many months ago. You collapsed onto the bed in the dark room and you stared up at the ceiling soundlessly, tears escaping the corners of your eyes. Odd, you thought. You’d been under the impression that you’d cried out all your tears.

The sounds of your name grew closer and closer, but you still ignored them, not wanting to be bothered. You wanted to be alone, you wanted to mourn, whatever this was, alone.

You didn’t have such luck, though. Footsteps stampeded through the hallway and your door was flung open.

“I’ve found her!” A voice called out, and you recognized it as one of your father’s personal guards.

“Y/n!” You heard your mother shriek as she pushed her way into the room. You turned your head and watched your father, your brother, three guards, and much to your dismay, your husband all flood into the room.

“Darling, are you hurt?” Your father asked and approached you, standing at the side of your bed.

Yes, you wanted to say, but you shook your head a few times and turned your head away from your father.

“Oh, my sweet child!” Your mother cried and rushed to your side, reaching down to wipe your cheeks dry with the backs of her hands, “Where on earth have you been? Someone has tried to kill the Sun Summoner, and we couldn’t find you, and we were so afraid-“

“Tatiana, we don’t need to frighten her. She’s safe.” Your father said, cutting your mother off. Your father turned and looked at your husband and he nodded at you once and you wanted to scream. Your husband slowly approached you as well and you wanted to jump off of the bed and throw yourself out the window to get away from him.

But you didn’t. Instead, you stared up at him disdainfully. Unshed tears seemed to sit in his eyes and he looked unusually out of sorts. Perhaps no one could tell as much, but you could. You’d spent almost everyday with the man for many, many months, and you couldn’t tell, he wasn’t at his most composed.

“You could have been killed.” He said in a harsh whisper, looking down upon you with a look of sadness.

You didn’t reply, you only closed your eyes and turned your head away from all of them. Maybe if you held your breath for a moment, they’d disappear. Maybe if you kept your eyes shut, you’d disappear into thin air. You wished you were invisible.

“I want to be alone. I’m sure-“

“Alone? Oh, no. No, no. Absolutely not, darling. You are to go back to the Little Palace with the General at once. You are not to be alone, not after the fright we’ve had tonight.” Your father said sternly.

You widened your eyes in anger and you readied yourself to argue, but before you could get a sound out of your mouth, your husband scooped you into his arms like a doll. You looked up at him scornfully and he avoided your eyes, looking up at your parents instead.

“I’ll keep her safe while we figure out what’s going on.” He promised and your parents nodded.

He finally looked down at you with that same, pained expression from earlier and he began to walk towards the door.

Vasily stepped in front of your husband just as he was going to walk out of the room and he looked The Darkling up and down.

“Vasily-“ you began, but you wouldn’t get the chance to finish, because your brother stepped aside and silenced you with a look. Your husband stared down at your brother as if to dare him to do something.

After a tense few seconds, your husband walked out into the hallway, away from your parents and brother, and down the stairs. Once he had reached the bottom of the stairs, you sniffled and placed your hands on his chest, pushing slightly.

“Put me down. Please.” You said hoarsely.

“Not a chance.” He replied drearily.

“Put me down, now. I don’t want you to touch me.”

“I need you to trust me. I don’t care what you want right now, but-“

“Trust you?” You bellowed, feeling a white hot surge of anger at his words and your husband shot you a deadly look. You glared up at him as he did and you shook your head, “I will never forgive you for this.” You hissed.

“I’ll live without your forgiveness. You could have been in danger tonight, you know. I was worried.” He scolded you, walking down into the courtyard with you in his arms. Once he reached the gravel road, he set you down on your feet and he stared down into your eyes, “If you had been hurt tonight… I don’t know what I would have done.”

“You would have gone on just fine by Alina’s side.”

“Y/n, you already know I don’t have feelings for Alina.” He groaned and grabbed you by your arms, “Open your eyes! I only have a place in my heart for you.” He insisted.

You jutted your chin up in the air and shook your head, “My eyes are wide open, and I don’t need to-“ you were cut off by the sight of Baghra, seemingly appearing out of nowhere next to the two of you.

“I heard about your Tracker.” She drawled, looking up at her son with the same stone cold eyes that you’d seen on your husband many times.

A pointed flash of controlled anger sparkled in your husband’s eyes and you rapidly looked between the two of them, unsure of what was going on in the conversation.

“Who?” Your husband asked, tone blank.

“The Tracker,” she repeated, “Yes, I know about him… and your little mission.” She deadpanned.

Your husband reached down and grabbed your wrist gently and moved you behind him, just as he did the last time Baghra had come around. She snorted humorlessly at the motion.

“What have you done with him?” Your husband asked in a low tone.

“Disposed of. Along with your hopes of locating the stag.” She countered back, a certain smugness hiding behind the collected tone she spoke in.

Your husband seemed amused and his jaw flexed before he spoke again, “I always have hope, Mother. Even you can’t kill that.”

“That isn’t hope. That’s greed.” She corrected, taking a step closer to both of you. You felt uneasy, and even more so when her eyes flickered to you and stayed on your face, “You would use Alina against the rest of the world, just as you planned to use this poor little girl.”

Your husband’s lip twitched downwards and he balled his fists up at his sides, “Mother, I’d beseech you to leave my wife out of this. As for Alina, she is the future, she is the one-“

“Yes!” Baghra quipped, a little smirk forming on her thin, wrinkled lips, “but where is she?”

“Careful.” Your husband snapped, stepping aside to block you from his mother’s view, “you don’t really matter anymore, either.”

“Careful? Me? I’m always careful, Aleksander.” She cooed, and your mouth fell open. Aleksander? Was that your husband’s name? You’d never known him by a first name, and perhaps that was on purpose. You’d only asked about it once, days after your marriage, and he simply told you that his name wasn’t important knowledge.

Baghra continued, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Perhaps you should be careful. Princess Lantsov isn’t indestructible, you know.” She said in a high pitched, cocky whisper.

You felt a shiver run down your spine. Was she threatening you? You had never done anything to her, you’d never even had a proper conversation with the old woman.

“If you so much as threaten to put my wife in harm’s way,” he began, stepping closer to his mother, towering over her menacingly, “think about what I might do.”

You watched the two of them from over your husband’s shoulder and you took one step back before your husband turned around and he grabbed your wrist again, pulling you protectively against his side while he walked away from his mother.

“I’d wager you’d need a skilled tracker to find Alina now!” His mother called after him, but he kept walking with his hand around your wrist.

You could’ve sworn he was trembling, but you weren’t sure.

The two of you walked in silence back to your shared bedroom in the Little Palace, and he slammed the door behind the two of you, letting your wrist go once you were in the safety of your own quarters. You took a few steps away from him and you looked him up and down a few times, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“You don’t have to understand all of the reasons behind the things I do.” He said, taking a step towards you.

Your brain was reeling from the conversation he’d just had with his mother in front of you and you pressed your fingertips into your skin as he stepped closer to you.

You took one step back again.

“Stop.” You whispered.

“I need you to listen to me now.” He pressed, walking towards you now.

“Stop.” You pleaded, taking a few more steps back.

“You have to hear me out, Princess. This is life or death.” He insisted, taking another step closer.

You backed up until your back hit the wall and you shook your head violently.

“Stop, please.” You said and covered your ears, but he still approached you.

“Nothing is as it seems-“

“Aleksander, stop!” You cried, clutching your head in your hands.

The silence was thick between the two of you, and when you looked up at his face, he seemed surprised. He stopped moving towards you, stopped speaking, stopped moving all together. It seemed you had completely caught him off guard.

“Enough. Enough of this. This ends tonight. You will be honest with me- completely honest- and I will walk out of this palace and our marriage will be over. I am not negotiating, this is not up for discussion, I am telling you what you will do.” You commanded, leaning your head back against the wall exhaustedly.

He seemed to completely concede and he gave you one single nod, “What would you like to know?”

“Everything. You will tell me everything. Start at the beginning. Why did you want to marry me? What purpose could I possibly even serve for you?”

He didn’t respond right away. He took his time to think, to stare at your face longingly. Finally, he exhaled and he folded his arms over his chest.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I wanted power. Marrying you means that if something were to happen to your brother, I’d be next in line to rule. Alongside you, of course. My plan was set in stone, until I made you cry in the hallway, the first day I was back with Alina. You looked so sad, so hurt by the words I’d said to you, and for the first time in a very long time, I felt guilty. Falling for you… came quickly after that. You were no longer just a means to get what I wanted. You were a girl. A beautiful, sweet girl, who only wanted to love and be loved in return, a girl that was completely innocent. You’d committed no crime, done no harm to warrant what I’d set out for. I didn’t lie when I said that you have enchanted me. I love you. I adore you. I am sick with adoration for you.” He confessed, falling to his knees before you.

You stared down at him and it took everything in you to not crumble to your own knees and beg him to take you in his arms. It took willpower you didn’t even know you had to stay standing against the wall.

“And what of Alina? What about her?” You asked, your voice wavering.

“Alina Starkov is power. Alina is…” he trailed off, collecting his thoughts before he started back up again, “My intentions with Alina are less than honorable. She is a rather large stepping stone towards the power I desire. But she is nothing more. When I told you I didn’t have feelings for her, I didn’t lie, y/n. How could I? She isn’t you.” He insisted, leaning forward on his knees.

“What of her wearing black then? You told me that you only wanted someone close to you to wear your color.” You demanded, hands on your hips.

“I needed her to trust me. That is all. I swear on my life, darling, that there is no room for her in my heart.” He pleaded. The look in his eyes was desperate and you let out a shaky sigh you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You knew by the way he spoke, the way his eyes were pleading with you, the way he had taken to his knees in front of you, that he was telling you the truth. There was no evasion, no stories. Just the truth. You very slowly sank to your knees in front of him and you grabbed his chin with your fingers.

“What was your mother going on about?” You asked, staring into his eyes.

This seemed much harder for him to answer by the look on his face. He reached up and grabbed your hand and pulled it away from his chin. He held your hand tightly in his and he let out a long sigh.

“I will explain this to you in time. But all you need to know right now is that my mother is intent on hurting anyone who dares take my side, one way or another. I have been presented with the opportunity to further my power, through the use of a very old, very powerful, practically mythical creature, and my mother is hellbent on taking that away from me.” He explained, holding your hand tighter.

“Why do you need more power, Aleksander?” You asked quietly, staring into his eyes seriously.

“So that I can build a perfect world for you and me.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him.

You hesitantly moved closer to your husband and then you stopped.

Though everything he said to you was likely the truth based on his demeanor, it still didn’t excuse it. Your bottom lip quivered and you sniffled back tears as you stared into his eyes. Your brain told you to get up and leave. It told you to walk out and never look back, and that’s what you wanted to do. That’s what you should do. But your heart ached in your chest at the sight of him and you found yourself shuffling forward to collapse against his chest.

He let out a quiet sound that could have passed as an exhale, but it sounded a bit too similar to a sob. His strong arms wound around your body and held you against his chest protectively, lovingly. He pressed his cheek against the top of your head and you gathered the lapels of his kefta in your fists, pulling yourself closer to him.

You felt weak, and you scolded yourself for not having the willpower to walk out of his room. You should have pulled away from him and done it anyway, but he held you so tenderly. You pressed your ear against his chest and could swear that you heard the faint thump of his heart. You felt safe in his embrace, comforted, too.

His hand slid up into your hair and he very gently ran his fingers through it, knowing fully how it relaxed you.

“Don’t leave me, darling. Please. You are all I have.” He whispered, pressing his lips against your temple, “All I need. I will protect you always, love you, always. Just stay with me.” He pleaded, voice gentle.

And once again, you found yourself conceding.

The day after the Winter Fete was overcast and grey. It was as if the party had summoned winter, because the air became much colder and much drier. The air was thick and full of tension in the Little Palace, and everyone was bustling about busily. Your husband had been among the busy. You sat in an armchair by your bed, reading-but-not-really-reading one of your husband’s books, tucked underneath a thick blanket.

Your husband had mentioned the day would be busy for him as you two laid in bed last night. So far from what you understood, someone had tried to kill Alina last night. Your husband had slipped out once you were asleep to interrogate the man who attempted to kill her. Furthermore, Alina had run off last night after being prompted to leave by Baghra, a Heartrender close to your husband, by the name of Nina, was missing, and so was the boy that had told your husband about the mythical animal he’d been hunting.

A knock sounded at your door, breaking the eerie silence around you, and you looked up from your book.

“Come in!” You called, tipping your head to the side.

Ivan, one of your husband’s closest confidants, opened the door and gave you a small, rare smile.

“Your Grace, The General wishes to see you in his office.” He said, bowing his head at you respectfully.

You tucked a piece of your hair back behind your ear and you smiled, “Alright. Thank you, Ivan.” You said softly and rose from the chair, setting the blanket on the bed. You placed the book down on the chair and looked up at Ivan who hadn’t left the room yet, “You may go, I’m sure you have much to attend to.” You said with a small smile.

Ivan shook his head and he gave you another smile, though it was a bit sympathetic this time, “My apologies, Princess, but your husband has requested that I escort you there. He’s a bit worried after last night.”

“Ivan,” you began with a soft laugh, “it’s only down the hall.”

He gave you an apologetic glance and then you sighed, nodding once, understanding that he was only following orders. You walked towards Ivan and he offered his arm to you, which you took with a quiet ‘thank you’. He led you out of your room and down the hall to Aleksander’s office, which was quite literally just six doors away. He pushed the door open without knocking and he pulled his arm away from yours.

You stepped inside of the office to see your husband sitting at his desk. He slowly turned his head to see who was at the door, and when he saw you, he looked relieved. A sweet smile crept up onto his face and he held his hand out for you, beckoning you closer. You returned his smile and made your way over to him, lifting the skirt of your dress up off of the floor. Once you reached his side, he grabbed your hand and lifted it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles and then he slowly moved your hand away from his lips, gazing up at you contently.

“I’ve missed you.” He commented with a little sigh, “Sit.” He said and shifted a bit in his chair to give you space to sit on his thigh.

You sat down on his thigh and you wrapped both of your arms around his neck, peering down at the papers on his desk.

“Any word on… well, anything?” You asked, twisting the ends of his hair around your fingertips.

“Not so far… but we’re going to be assembling a group to go searching for her.” He replied and leaned close to you to press a soft kiss to your cheek, “I’d like you to come with me. I’m not leaving you here where my mother is. I don’t trust her, and I don’t think any guard could keep her in line should she… act out.” He explained, resting his forehead against the side of your face.

“Come with you? But what about my parents? Will they even allow it?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. You couldn’t imagine your mother being overly elated to have you leave Os Alta.

“By law, you are under my care as my wife. They don’t really have much say. Though, I’ll speak to them and explain that you’ll be safer with me given the attack at the party last night.” He hummed and pulled his head away from yours. He looked back down at the papers on his desk and you looked down at them as well. Maps and notes and letters were strewn messily across his desk and it was hard to tell what exactly he was looking at.

“Shall I pack?” You asked, eyeing a book that had a sketch of a large stag with an intricate set of antlers.

“No need, little love,” he answered, not looking up, “I’ve already had servants pack everything you will need to be away for some time.”

You laid your head down against his shoulder and you felt his arm slide around your waist, holding you close to him. You felt a bit uneasy as you eyed the maps on his desk. You’d never been out of Os Alta more than once in your entire life, and you had sure never been anywhere near The Fold. You almost shivered as your eyes fell upon The Fold on the map and you hoped that you wouldn’t have to get close to it on your travels with your husband.

“We won’t have to go near The Fold, will we?” You asked softly, still fiddling with his hair.

Aleksander sighed and he turned away from his work to look up at you, “Oh, my love, you don’t need to fear The Fold. Nothing can hurt you as long as I’m by your side.” He assured you.

Fear made your stomach turn and you lifted your head away from his shoulder, “So we are? We aren’t going through it, though? Right?” You asked.

“Well, when we find Alina, yes. We will be going through it.” He replied and you shook your head a few times.

“Aleksander-“

“My love,” he cut you off, placing his hand on the side of your face, “nothing will happen. You will be perfectly safe and taken care of. Please, don’t fret about this.” He whispered soothingly, leaning up to press a few reassuring kisses to the side of your face.

The thought of going through The Fold was terrifying. You’d been told from a young age that many times, people did not cross it safely. You bit your bottom lip and looked back at the map on his desk with the large black stain indicating The Fold.

“If we’re going through with Alina, she’ll tear it down, then, right? That’s the whole reason we need her?” You asked and then looked back at your husband.

He smoothed back your hair and he placed a little kiss on your nose, “You are worrying about things that don’t need to be worried about, darling. Everything will go according to plan.”

You still felt uneasy at the prospect of going through The Fold, but you laid your head back on Aleksander’s shoulder nonetheless.

“When are we leaving?” You asked softly and grabbed his hand in your own, playing with his fingers.

“In an hour.” He replied and moved up to press a quick kiss to your lips.

You hummed when he kissed you and slowly pulled back when he did, “So soon?” You asked, surprised.

“Well, yes. We need to get going before nightfall.” He replied and slid his fingers in between yours, “Why don’t we go get you dressed warmly, hm?” He suggested and you slid off of his lap, nodding once.

He rose from his chair and he neatly pushed it in, leaving the maps and other papers scattered across his desk. He had faint dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a bit out of place, he seemed tired. You gently grabbed his hand and frowned, looking up into his eyes.

“You seem so tired, Aleksander. Why don’t you sleep for a little while? Surely we can leave after you wake.” You pressed, though you doubted he’d agree. You turned out to be correct because he shook his head and gave you a small smile.

“We really need to get going, y/n.” He stated, tugging you towards the door.

You followed alongside him as he brought you back to your bedroom and he dropped your hand as soon as you were inside. He rushed to the wardrobe and opened it up, pulling out your long, thick coat and one of his heavy, fur-lined cloaks. You puffed out your cheeks almost exasperatedly and you made your way to your bed. You sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him as he compared coats, trying to figure out which one was warmer. Truthfully, the last thing you wanted to do was follow him around while he hunted down Alina and this animal, but you weren’t too sure how well that conversation would go over.

Finally, your husband had made a decision on which coat to put on you and he came and laid it next to you on the bed, giving you a soft smile as he did.

“Will you put on a warmer dress, darling? One of the heavier ones, please.” He requested, standing in front of you to cup your cheeks in his cold hands.

“This dress is plenty warm, especially if I will have a coat and your cloak on.” You replied and leaned into his hands. The cold, hard edges of your husband’s rings pressed into your cheek and you shivered slightly.

“Y/n. A warmer dress, please.” He replied, and you knew this wasn’t up for discussion.

He pulled away and you stood up, going over to the wardrobe with a little sigh. You dug through your wide array of dresses before you found one of your winter dresses and you pulled it out. You quickly changed out of your current dress and into the warmer one while your husband rummaged through one of your chests, presumably looking for gloves. When he found them, he walked towards you and he placed them gently in your hands.

“Put these on. And…” he paused and walked over to the bed and grabbed the coat, “this too.” He said and you let out a quiet sigh.

You put the gloves on, as well as the coat with a bit of help from him, and once you were buttoned up tightly inside of your coat, he stepped back and surveyed you for a moment. He nodded once, seemingly pleased with his work and then he began to put on his own cloak and gloves.

“Aleksander?” You asked in a tiny voice, looking over at your husband with a small frown.

He lifted his head and looked at you while he tied his cloak up, “Yes, little love?” He asked, raising his eyebrow curiously.

“I don’t want to leave home.” You said quietly, shuffling your feet almost awkwardly. The thought of Ravka outside of Os Alta was terrifying to you. Your parents had always told you that the war had taken its toll on the country and that the best place to be was the capital, the safest place, too.

He thought for a moment on how to respond to you, and you thought that he wasn’t going to reply at all, but he finally let out a very slow sigh and approached you, holding his arms open. You slowly stepped into his arms and he wrapped them around your waist, holding you close to his chest.

“I know you’re nervous, but you must understand, sweet girl, that I would never let anything happen to you. It’s simply out of the question. You will be the safest you’ve ever been with me, surrounded by other very gifted Grisha.” His voice was velvety and you suddenly felt very silly for your fears. He had a way of doing that- making you feel like he was the only answer to your questions, soothing your worries with sweet words and touches.

As you rested your head against his chest, he brought a hand up to hold the back of your head and you let out a very quiet sigh, your eyes falling shut. He held you for a while, unmoving, and you wondered if he had turned to marble for a moment. Finally, he let go of you and leaned down to press a kiss to your hairline.

“We should get going.” He murmured and took your hand.

You nodded once and squeezed his hand, disappointed to find that you were still nervous.

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